


There Are Stars Trapped Under Your Skin

by Siana



Series: Don't Call it Fate [5]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: I don't, I'll put the mafia back in mafia AU, M/M, and you are along for the ride, let's stop pretending I know what I'm doing, or something like that, this where it's getting real
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-02
Updated: 2017-06-16
Packaged: 2018-09-21 15:18:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 36,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9554768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Siana/pseuds/Siana
Summary: Yuuri's been living with Viktor for almost a year now, a slice of peace they have carved out of their violent lives.But nothing ever lasts.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A few notes before we begin:
> 
> \- This is gonna be the longest part of this series yet and I have honestly very little idea (beyond a basic outline) where it will go. As such, I can't predict when the next update will hit, what's gonna happen in it and so on. That's the reason why there's not much going on in the tags right now and why the rating is so low. It's gonna change as the story progresses.  
> This is a rather unusual approach for me, as I usually plot and write my stories well in advance. So this is gonna be less, let's say cohesive as my other works. I hope you'll still be able to enjoy it.
> 
> \- Another thing that is unusual for me, I would like to take this moment to ask for your support. I've noticed that interest seems to be waning with each consecutive part of this series. I write as a hobby and this is definitely enjoyable for me, but a significant part of my motivation comes from the reactions I get from my readers. Especially when I'm so busy with work, it helps to see that my work gets appreciated. I've got some lovely comments from readers and they've brightened my day. So I am deeply grateful to everyone who takes the time to leave me a comment or recommends my fics to others or even just leaves a kudos. If you could spare me a few minutes and let me know what you think of this new entry in the series, I would be even more grateful.

“You’re doing it again,” Yuri informs him, scowling as seems to be his perpetual state.

“Doing what?” Viktor asks innocently, even as he feels the smile stretch his lips,

Yuri doesn’t respond verbally, but makes sure Viktor sees him rolling his eyes.

“We’re going on a date tonight,” Viktor informs him happily. Not just a date, but a date _Yuuri has asked him_ out on _._ He’d refused to divulge any details to Viktor, except for ‘dress casually’ and given him a _look_ that Viktor has grown to know so well. It’s part fondness and part exasperation, usually directed at Viktor being ridiculous in one way or another. The last time Yuuri had asked him to dress casually he had managed to be simultaneously overdressed and the most fawned over person in the room. Yuuri had not been pleased and it had taken a delicious few hours to appease him. 

Yuri drops a stack of files on the desk in front of Viktor, unapologetically too loud and entirely indifferent to the fact. Viktor’s dismay is counterset by his inability to keep his smile off his face. He  _ hates _ paperwork, but Yuuri asked him on a date, it’s impossible to not be in a good mood.

Yuri plants his butt on the edge of Viktor’s desk, apparently unconcerned but entirely too careful not to disturb the framed picture of the three of them, Viktor had set there a few weeks ago. He shows no such care for the second picture of just Viktor and Yuuri. Viktor puts it to the side, where it’s safe.

There’s something to be said about Yuri’s audacity, the leeway he’s granted. If pressed, Viktor refers to his extraordinary skill, but it still ruffles a few feathers that an upshot like Yuri can essentially do what he wants. He’s skilled, there is no doubt about that and he  _ is _ part of the  _ Bratva _ but he’s  _ new _ , the illegitimate son of some runner and he hadn’t joined the  _ Bratva _ proper until he was already fifteen. 

He’s not suitable to be Viktor’s bodyguard, not suitable to address him informally, to sit on his desk to be as abrasively brash and rude as he is. But the truth is, Viktor doesn’t care about what’s suitable, what he does care about is how fond Yuuri is of Yuri and how much he himself simply enjoys Yuri’s company.

He does care for the  _ Bratva _ , because it’s Yakov’s and he understands gratitude, he cares for his brothers and sisters the way he’s been taught, because they’re his responsibility and he understands what it means to have a family. But he also knows what his priorities are - irrespective of what they should be - it’s Yuuri, it’s always going to be Yuuri, even if it destroys him and everything he’s built. There’s room for others, but Yuuri will always be the center.

Sometimes, Viktor looks at Yuri and thinks how easy it would be to leave it all behind. Make Yuri his successor - he could do it too, even despite the opposition, especially  _ because _ of all the opposition, because that’s how he rolls - and just  _ leave _ . But he’s been in the business long enough to recognize the look in Yuri’s eyes, the one he only ever gets when no one’s looking.

It’s the look Viktor knows all too well, because it’s the look his own eyes are missing. 

They’ve all seen things and it would be poor gratitude to burden it all on a man who is still haunted by his memories.

There is something to be said about the three way relationship they’ve built between them. It’s more a family than a  _ family _ , and even with Yuuri in his life he’s still not quite used to caring for a person for no other reason than that he wants to. And that is hard lesson to learn for someone who has been selfish all his life.

Viktor makes his way through the files, reports and bills and all the little things that come with heading a multi-billion dollar Empire. Yuri is silent for most of it. Whatever he wants, he hasn’t yet worked his way up to it.

“I don’t get you,” Yuri says eventually.

Viktor acknowledges him with a hum, but doesn’t tear his eyes away from the paper in front of him. Casino income and the numbers don’t add up. It’s impossible to find bookkeepers that are free of corruption, the key is to find the ones who only steal a little. This one has grown bold - or stupid and it’s just one more thing that Viktor should care about but doesn’t.

“The pig too,” Yuri says. “Both of you are idiots and I’m very much in physical pain just watching you.”

This gets Viktor’s attention, simply for the fact that Yuuri has been mentioned. “Yuuri is not an idiot,” he says firmly.

Yuri looks at him for a moment as though he can’t quite believe what he just heard. “This is exactly what I mean,” he says and sounds somewhat strained. “You are so ridiculously in love, it’s… ridiculous.”

Viktor tilts his head and rests it on his hand, staring at Yuuri. “What’s wrong about that?”

Yuri picks up the picture of Yuuri and Viktor and holds it up in front of him. It’s a selfie, Viktor’s arm around Yuuri’s shoulders, a big smile on his and a somewhat smaller but all the same happy smile on Yuuri’s face. They’re both bundled up in winter wear and the cold has left Yuuri’s nose and cheeks flushed red. Or was that because Viktor kissed him moments before the picture was taken?

“You’re criminals,” Yuri says and puts the picture down. “I’ve seen your handiwork. You’re a sadist. I’ve seen men piss their pants at the mention of your name and your stupid pig boyfriend is almost as bad. No one would believe me, if I told them of the face you’re making right now.”

“What face?”

Yuri scrunches his nose, but picks up the second frame, the one with the three of them. “That face.” On it, Viktor is in the middle, his arms wrapped around Yuuri and Yuri, a big goofy smile on his face, whereas Yuuri looks surprised and Yuri looks murderous.

“I’m not smiling right now,” Viktor points out.

“Yeah, but you have that  _ look _ in your eyes. Like someone just told you like, I don’t know. Something that makes you really, really happy. Fuck, I don’t even  _ know _ what makes you happy, except for piglet I guess.”

“But I am happy,” Viktor says. He takes the picture out of Yuri’s hand to look at it. Tries to identify the look Yuri is talking about.

“Yeah, that’s the point.”

“But that’s not a bad thing.” If more people were happy, the world would be a better place. Yuri doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t need to. Viktor realizes what he just said. He looks down at the picture again, sees the happiness both in him and Yuuri. Sees it in Yuri too, hidden but there all the same.

None of them look like the criminals they are.

“Oh,” he says.

Yuri hops off the desk and walks to the door. He doesn’t say anything more as he leaves.

_ We’re happy _ , Viktor thinks _ , but we make the world a worse place for it. _

~*~

It shouldn’t matter. It never has before. Being a mobster is just another thing to be, another identity to fulfill, another thing to pass the time. But when Viktor sits in the restaurant Yuuri had picked for their date, when he sits there making small talk, enjoying the little blush on Yuuri’s face, the happiness in his chest. He thinks that this might not be the live he wanted to live, but it’s not a bad life. He’s done bad things and will continue to do bad things, but he isn’t unhappy, doesn’t even feel guilty for it, because he’s still selfish and he has what he wants.

Viktor curls a hand into Yuuri’s hair, pulls him into a kiss.

The world, he thinks, can go to hell.

He has what he wants and will protect it at all costs.

~*~

 

Yuuri’s father dies and this time he is the last to know. The news comes with a message from his brother - now the leader of the family - attached as though on afterthought. The message arrives in the middle of the night, when Yuuri’s sleeping in Viktor’s arms and he only gets to read it in the morning, after Viktor’s sated both their hungers and gone to take a shower by himself only because Yuuri’s stalled by the blinking of his phone.

_ Father’s dead. Come meet me immediately. _

There is no signature and Yuuri only knows its from his brother because there is no one else who would call the man father.

He knows better, but the still sends back a  _ how?  _ The response comes in the form of an automated message, informing him that it could not be delivered. Throwaway phone then and that shouldn’t surprise him, but the bitterness still feels startling in a way it shouldn’t.

Yuuri lies back on the covers, rumpled as they are. For the first time since he came to Russia, he feels the emptiness creep up from within him. This means change, and Yuuri can’t say they will be good ones.

The shower turns off and Yuuri can hear the sounds of Viktor getting out. The phone has gone dark in his hands, but the words are still there in his mind. Taunting.

He taps the home button and his phone comes back to life. He googles his father’s name, curiosity getting the better of him and he knows he shouldn’t. He finds his father has been dead for over a week, his funeral already a thing of the past.

_ …in a private funeral among closest family…will be missed… fortune goes to the only son Ryuichi… _

The bathroom door opens. Steam billows out, carrying Viktor’s voice, “Yuuri, if you want to you can… Yuuri?”

“He’s dead,” Yuuri says. It doesn’t sound real. He had barely known his father and he knows that his presence in Russia had been taken by many at home as betrayal. His father had agreed to the exchange, but  _ rosukes  _ were not supposed to be friends, were not supposed to personally ask for the boss’s illegitimate son, to command the allegiance of one of theirs so easily.

His emotions make no sense, he isn’t grieving, he shouldn’t be grieving, but he feels  _ something _ close to grief all the same.

“Yuuri?” Viktor is crouching before him _. “ _ Who’s dead? Talk to me, please?”

“Father,” Yuuri says.

Viktor makes a face, distaste clearly and says, “that’s problematic.”

And it is, Yuuri realizes. It’s startling, unexpected, but Yuuri realizes he’s not sad because his father is dead, he is dismayed because he knows his father’s death will bring problems.

He raises his hands and buries his face in them. “Oh my God,” he says.

“What is it?” Viktor’s fingers flutter down his arms, unsure what to do and it’s ridiculous because Viktor is only covered in a towel, still dripping and he’s frantic because Yuuri is  _ laughing _ .

He pulls his hands away to look at Viktor, finds the confusion and worry there and he smiles. He takes Viktor’s wet face into his hands and plants a kiss on his lips. “I don’t care,” he whispers. “That he’s dead. I thought his approval mattered, but it doesn’t. It never did. I have Toshiya-san, what the hell do I need  _ him _ for?”

Viktor frowns. “That’s good… I think?”

Yuuri curls his fingers into a strand of Viktor’s hair. The silver is matted now that it’s wet. “It is. It really is. I’ve tried so long to be the perfect tool, just so that he would  _ acknowledge _ me. But it never mattered. I just never realized it.”

Viktor finally smiles. “Okay,” he says. “Your father was an idiot anyway.”   
Yuuri huffs a laugh. “Now you tell me.”

“He never understood what he had in you,” Viktor says sincerely. “Now come and take a shower with me.”

“You already showered, though.”

Viktor merely shrugs and pulls him up with him. Yuuri’s pretty much soaked through anyway and showers with Viktor are nice, even if they usually take much longer than they have to.

~*~

It’s not that simple of course. Yuuri shows Viktor his brother’s summons over breakfast and it is good to see his worries mirrored in Viktor’s expression.

“This could be trouble,” Viktor says, frowning.

“What could be?” Yuri asks. Breakfast is a private affair, or at least it’s supposed to be, but Yuri has long since found a way to worm himself into most of their everyday life. Not that Yuuri minds. Yuri’s abrasive, but he’s reliable and deeply kind. Which is a rare thing to be in their line of work.

Of course, since the larger part of the Feltsman-now-Nikiforov mansion has been taken over by the  _ Bratva _ , privacy is a bit of a stretch anyway. They’re alone in the room for now, but Viktor’s second, Mila is only one door away.

“Daddy dearest has bitten the dust,” Viktor says with a chilling smile.

“I thought your father was a crack addict who died in prison,” Yuri says flatly. 

“Not mine,” Viktor waves the comment off like it’s nothing. Viktor doesn’t talk about his real parents, but it’s never come with that careful avoidance of a sore subject. It’s more like he doesn’t care one way or another and it explains in a way why he was so quick to accept Yuuri’s divorce from parental bonds.

“I see,” Yuri says blandly. He switches his glare to Yuuri, “mind telling me what’s going on or is this some private business you somehow failed to keep off the public breakfast table?”

“My father died and my brother has summoned me,” Yuuri explains. 

“I see,” Yuri says again. He’s no longer glaring but frowning. “Why is that bad news?”

“Think Yurio,” Viktor says. He leans back in his chair and swings his legs up to rest in Yuuri’s lap like they aren’t just discussing sensitive business with their bodyguard over breakfast. Yuuri rests a hand on Viktor’s shin, catches a warm smile in the corner of his eyes. It’s odd how he can feel this content over some simple domestic bliss, when he had thought for most of his life that happiness is a commodity he can’t afford.

“He wants something from Yuuri,” Yuri says slowly. He looks at Viktor, expression pensive. “He’s the guy that doesn’t like you.”

Viktor nods, presses his toes into the meat of Yuuri’s thigh. His feet are warm, warmer than Yuuri’s own.

“My father was always a bit of a xenophobic traditionalist,” Yuuri admits. It doesn’t taste as much like betrayal as it used to. “He wanted to preserve tradition. Progress wasn’t exactly conform with is idea of leadership. His aspirations were… small, at least outside of Japan.”

Viktor chuckles, “that’s an understatement. He got angry at me when I offered him casino rights in Macau in exchange for Yuuri’s help. He asked me what he was supposed to do with all the ‘useless foreign rights’.”

“So he agreed to let Viktor clean up the Chinese scum from his territory? Because… he couldn’t do it himself?” Yuri scowls. “What a pushover.”

“Something of the sort,” Yuuri muses. “He thought himself very clever, I am sure. Let the dirty  _ rosukes  _ clean out the dirty  _ chankoros  _ from his front yard and no pure  _ nihonjin _ has to soil their hands. All the while my father can sit in his castle and rule over his little Empire unperturbed. My brother of course doesn’t care about traditions and he quite dislikes Viktor. He was never quite happy with the arrangement, but had to bow to my father’s will.”

“Your brother is such a lovely fellow,” Viktor quips.

Yuuri doesn’t smile. Truly, his brother has always been more rational than his father, but he’d carried himself with a cool confidence that had intimidated Yuuri when he was younger. His brother, being several years his senior, had seemed larger than life for most of his youth.

“So your bastard of a brother took out your father, is that it?” Yuri asks.

Yuuri is genuinely surprised by this statement. He’d not considered that possibility. “I wouldn’t say so. They had their differences, but Ryuichi does respect my father. At least I always thought he did. I am not particular close with him, so it is hard to say.”

“It doesn’t really matter,” Viktor says. “Dead is dead.”

It’s true. Yuuri can’t honestly say he cares about his biological father’s demise all that much on an emotional level. If it were Toshiya or Hiroko however… But it is moot to think about that.

Viktor levels a look at Yuuri, “you shouldn’t go. You’re safe here. We can protect you from him, if need be..” 

“No,” Yuuri says slowly. He knows how his brother feels about him for the most part. There was no love lost between them, but there had always been a grudging sort of respect. Yuuri has been loyal to the family despite his status and while he is certainly expendable, he’s proven his worth sufficiently. Ryuichi is a cold-blooded bastard most of the time, but he values efficiency. “I should go. If only to see what he wants.”   
“Yuuri-” Viktor says the same moment Yuri says, “I’ll come with you.”

Yuuri shakes his head. “He won’t kill me. I am still his brother. At least he won’t do it openly.”

“So he’ll just knife you when no one’s looking,” Yuri says with a scowl. 

“I have family there. If nothing else I should make sure they are okay.” It’s an underhanded thing to say, he knows it. There’s no reason his family should be in danger, they’re loosely associated with the family, provide decent income and most of all, they know absolutely nothing that could be a danger to anyone. But he hasn’t seen them in a while and Yuuri misses the easy simplicity of his home life.

“Then take Yuri with you,” Viktor says. He looks tense and it’s a testimony to his trust in Yuuri that he doesn’t insist on coming along as well.

“I can’t. Who’ll protect you?” 

“Yuuri,” Viktor says, “I am surrounded by the  _ Boyeviks _ every day. I can take Mila as an escort for the time you’re gone. No one has dared to attack me here, right in the center of my power in years. I’m safe. Please? It would make me feel better,  _ lyubov' moya. _ ”

Yuuri can’t stand the open tenderness in Viktor’s face, so he looks at Yuri instead. But for once Yuri is not scowling, instead he looks almost worried. 

“All right,” Yuuri concedes. He does feel better after saying it. He isn’t afraid per se, but he’s been away too long and he doesn’t quite know what his brother’s plans are now that he’s the boss. If nothing else, he has to make sure that Ryuichi won’t plan to make a move against Viktor. Or if he does, make sure it won’t come to fruition.

Of course, bringing Yuri could be problematic in its own right.

“Good. I’ll tell Nikolai to book the flights.”

~*~

It’s been less than a year since the last time Yuuri has set foot on Japanese soil. Not a long time by any definition of the word but it still feels like something lost has returned. He looks around and sees people that are the same as he is. He no longer is the foreigner, the one that so obviously doesn’t belong.

That role is now reserved for Yuri, who exacerbates his difference by scowling at everything and everyone.

And that’s surprisingly reassuring, even if he’s on familiar ground. Yuri has become a fixture in his life without him noticing, more than the rest of the  _ Bratva _ have, most of which still eye him with suspicion. He can’t blame them for resenting him. He’s the one person who could steal Viktor Nikiforov from them after all.

Yuuri did not call ahead to announce his arrival, but there are still two men in suits awaiting them at arrival. It increases the knot of worry in his belly. He’s had a bad feeling since the beginning, but now he wonders if he should have listened to Viktor.

The men greet Yuuri with the barest of the required respect, but ignore Yuri completely. They do not acknowledge his father’s death and it only serves to increase Yuuri’s anxiety.

The silence in the car is oppressive during the ride to the family estate. Yuri is staring out the window, seemingly indifferent but Yuuri can see the tension in his shoulders. Neither of their two escorts speaks and Yuuri is loathe to break the silence. He understands this game, has played it his entire life. He’s expendable, unimportant, yet he carries his father’s blood in his veins. Any acknowledgement on his part that he isn’t aware of the common facts - is not  _ made _ aware - is seen as sign of his inferiority. So Yuuri resigns himself to staring out the window. The two guns in their holsters at his side are reassuring reminders that he isn’t exactly powerless. Viktor had to pull a few many strings, but he had insisted they take them with them.

Yuuri has played this game his entire life, but Yuri hasn’t. He kicks up his legs against the backrest of the passenger seat in front of him. Looks at Yuuri when he says in deliberate English, “Viktor would have their heads for disrespecting you.”

The men tense, both of them, but do not address the accusation. “They do not see it as disrespect,” Yuuri says in Russian, just as deliberately. He notes the small signs of distress, glances passing between the men, What did his brother tell them to expect, Yuuri wonders.

“All the more reason,” Yuri returns in English.

“He did not then, so why would he now?” Yuuri says lightly. HIs Russian is still mostly awkward, but it’s the safer option in this moment.

“We are almost here, Katsuki-sama,” the driver says as if to yank the conversation back into a realm he understands.

“I know,” Yuuri says coldly. The man tenses in the way only fear can cause.

“If you don’t know why then you are stupider than I gave you credit for,” Yuri says in Russian this time.

~*~

“...you haven’t been listening, have you?”

Viktor drags his thoughts back to the present, where Mila is currently sitting opposite him, a frown on her face. “I have,” he says.

Mila raises her eyebrows. “What have I said then?”

Viktor leans forward, resting his elbows on his desk. “We’ve a 30% loss of revenue from arms dealing branch, despite conflicts in the Middle East being on the uprise. You suspect a traitor in the ranks, siphoning off money. This is Georgi’s responsibility, the fact that he isn’t dealing with it means either he is the traitor or Anya is involved.”

Mila’s frown smoothes out, but the hard look in her eyes doesn’t disappear. “Then why haven’t you said anything? Georgi is your sworn brother and I just implicated him with little proof.”

“I trust you. You would not have raised concerns, if you hadn’t reason to believe they were valid. As I trust you to take care of the matter.”   
Mila stares at him for a moment, silent. Then she sighs and leans back in her chair. “You’ve changed,” she said, sounding almost as though she can’t quite believe it.

Viktor frowns, but quickly smoothes it out. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Mila regards him for a moment. “You haven’t trusted anyone since you were sixteen, Nikiforov. Everything you could handle yourself, you did handle yourself. The Viktor Nikiforov I know would never trust me with something this sensitive.”

“You are a skilled  _ Sovietnik _ , you have never let me down.”   
“And that’s the thing,” Mila says. “I couldn’t let you down, because you never trusted me with anything important. Even when you became  _ Pakhan _ , you scarcely acknowledged anyone. There’s Yura of course, but…” 

Viktor presses a finger to his lips. “Is that a problem?”

Mila scoffs. “Don’t be ridiculous. We are your spies and your brothers. We have no value, if you don’t need us. You should spend some more time with your underlings, they are quite ecstatic that they can finally be of help. They adore you, the legendary Silver Snake, and now that you are paying attention, most of them would die for you without hesitation.”

Viktor doesn’t quite know what to say. It’s true of course, he has trusted his underlings with more responsibility, mostly so he could spend time with Yuuri, but…

This family is still his responsibility. He would not leave their well being in the hands of people he doesn’t think worthy of the task. That’s the reason why he’s still here after all. It’s felt like it was him against the rest of the world for a long time, but it had never been actually true. He had never been alone, not in the truest sense of the word.

“We were always capable,” Mila says presently. “But you never trusted us enough to let us prove it.”

“I suppose that means I should apologize,” Viktor says, makes it sound light but he feels quite burdened that moment. He’d struggled for a long time with his apathy, with the apparent fact that there was no one who could match him. Maybe he’d been right, but in the process he’d also isolated himself from his allies. 

“You’re the  _ Pakhan _ ,” Mila says drily. “You can do whatever the fuck you want.”

“That doesn’t make it okay,” Viktor responds.

“No, it doesn’t. But then again, you shouldn’t need me to define what is okay for you. You are our  _ Pakhan _ .” She shrugs as if it were really that simple. 

It shouldn’t be. He should not be exempt from consequences just because he’s the  _ Pakhan _ . Viktor turns his head, unwilling to look at the trappings of his position. The sky outside is clear, a brilliant blue without a cloud. It reminds him of Yuuri, as everything that is pure does. But that’s misleading, isn’t it? Yuuri is not pure, he’s a killer, as is Viktor. 

But no one had forced the gun into Viktor’s hands. He had wanted to be a renowned figure skater, but he also wanted to be the most feared mob boss in the history of crime. He’d had aspirations, he’d just forgotten about them. He’d had to leave skating behind and it’s still a sore spot, but he hadn’t begrudged the heritage Yakov had handed him. He had strived, he  _ loved _ it - how could he have forgotten?

He had been so excited, so eager to prove himself and he had, again and again until he’d reached a point where there were no more challenges, everything in his path more nuisance than obstacle.

Viktor closes his eyes and tilts his head. Sunlight ghosts over his eyes. He laughs and it comes out bitter and mirthless.

Mila watches him, but she doesn’t say anything. Of course not - he’s the  _ Pakhan _ .

“Find out if Georgi is the cause or willing accomplice. Kill him if it’s the former, recruit him to help you if it’s the latter. It’s his mess either way, he has to clean it up. Remind him where his allegiances lie.”

He’s struck by the sudden thought that he - if it were him in Georgi’s shoes - would choose Yuuri, no matter what. He opens his eyes and looks at Mila. “If he chooses Anya, let him go,” he says. The surprise on Mila’s face is uncensored, more shock than anything.

“Viktor-” she starts but Viktor shakes his head.

“You were right. I have changed,” he says evenly. He feels lighter now, if only a little. There is a lot to think about, a lot to reevaluate. “I cannot claim your loyalty, if I offer nothing in return.”

Viktor exhales a breath. “Take care of it and then gather the  _ Bratva  _ for a meeting. It is time we consolidate our power where it matters.”

It is time he takes his position seriously. They have their escape plan, he and Yuuri and maybe Yuri too, but it’s time to realize that leaving doesn’t have to be their only choice. Mila is right, he is the  _ Pakhan _ . His men are loyal and they have accepted Yuuri as much as they ever will. They are the strongest mafia organization in Eurasia. There is nothing they have to run away from. And their forces have been stretched thin for too long. Viktor does not care to have an Empire when all he needs is a kingdom.

It is time to make this place their home.

~*~

It has been several years since the last time Yuuri has met his brother. Despite their shared blood, their positions are vastly different. Yuuri had been considered for a while as a backup heir, should anything ever happen to Ryuichi, his training had been started out of that need. But somewhere along the way that had been discarded and Yuuri had become what he is now - a tool.

Ryuichi on the other hand had been trained in all the things that make a good leader. Where Yuuri is a knife made to cut silently in the dark, Ryuichi is the sword, made to be held out in the open - a statement of power and wealth.

“Brother,” Ryuichi greets him with a nod. His brother has always skirted the power plays broiling under the surface. He values directness, results and honesty. 

“Aniki,” Yuuri says and bows the depth that he’s expected to. Yuri crosses his arms, glowers at the men in suits around them standing guard. So far no one has challenged his presence, but there is something odd in Ryuichi’s assessing gaze when he looks at Yuri. Almost as if he had to puzzle out his presence.

“This is my… associate, Yuri Plisetsky.” He hadn’t meant to pause, but he’d realized that using bodyguard could invite unwanted implications. Yuri scowls, no doubt about the unfamiliarity of the language. It is pretty obvious that he’s the subject of conversation.

Ryuichi’s face is unreadable as he regards Yuri. “Yuri,” he says and it takes Yuuri a moment to realize he’s not the one being addressed. He’s been around Russians for so long that he’s gotten used to being addressed without honorifics. “Would you mind giving us some privacy?” he says in English.

“I do mind,” Yuri says immediately.

Ryuichi’s face betrays nothing, but his eyes flick to one of his subordinates. Yuuri doesn’t know these men, they’re his brother’s so he doesn’t know what the glance signifies. But he knows at least this, disobeying his brother could have dire consequences for all of them.

“Yurio, please,” he says in Russian. It’s a mistake, he realizes it too late when the damage is already done. This is where his loyalties are supposed to lie, his allegiance and he just spoke a foreign, unwelcome language in the stronghold of his family.

The sense of panic is a surprise still and Yuuri can feel the franticness of his heartbeat. He thinks of changing his mind of asking Yuri to stay but then Ryuichi is speaking, “leave us. All of you.”

And that sells Yuri. He throws one last scowl at Yuuri seeming to say  _ don’t mess this up _ and then he’s gone and Yuuri’s protest and fears clog up his throat. 

“Let us speak frankly, brother,” Ryuichi says. He has yet to offer Yuuri a seat and this is a message too. Ryuichi’s sitting, relaxed and Yuuri is pressed into the role of a supplicant.

There is nothing for him to say, so he doesn’t.

“I have a task for you that only you can fulfill,” Ryuichi says and it’s not what Yuuri had expected, even as he has very little understanding of what to expect in the first place.

Ryuichi eyes him silently. His mother was a refined beauty where Yuuri’s is an unremarkable, chubby woman. It shows in their faces, the differences of their mothers only barely smoothed out by their shared father. Yuuri has always thought of his mother as warm and loving and it shows in the roundness of Yuuri’s own face, but Ryuichi has the cold distance of his mother.

“You will kill Viktor Nikiforov for me.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, thanks to all the amazing support I got for the last chapter. It really helped to get my motivation going. And I managed to plot out a large part of the story, although it still remains to be written. But I can say you're all in for a wild ride.  
> As for the update schedule, I like to have a regular one, but for this story I doubt I can pull it off. I'm busy with work and other hobbies and have to squeeze in writing time where I can. But I'll try and keep time between updates as short as possible.

_ You will kill Viktor Nikiforov for me _ .

For a long, infinite moment all Yuuri can do is stare at his brother. The words won’t register at first, refuse to make sense in his mind. When they finally do register, Yuuri’s reaction is as instant as it is inevitable. 

“Never,” he snaps. “How could you even-”

And then it hits him, the gravity of the error he’s just made.

“I thought so,” Ryuichi says and there is no triumph in his voice, just a sort of bitter resignation.

Yuuri swallows but he can’t take back the words. Can’t undo the damage he’s just done. Was this a trap from begin with or did he force his brother’s hand by bringing Yuri, by showcasing just how much his loyalties have shifted?

Does it even matter?

There’s sounds outside, the sounds only a fight can create, grunts and shouts, the crash of furniture.  _ Yuri _ , Yuuri thinks desperately and whirls to rescue his friend. But there are people now behind him, eight men in suits and arms, a wall to block his exit, his only means of escape.

Yuuri knows his own fate is sealed. He has betrayed his loyalties, has betrayed the family who made him what he is. “Let Yuri go,” Yuuri says to his brother. He doesn’t face him, keeps his eyes on the men in front of him. “And I will surrender.”

There is a beat of silence, carrying an almost wistful note. “It’s too late for that,” his brother says then. “Kill him.”

He’s trapped and the panic in his belly swells, threatening to overtake his mind. But Yuuri can’t give up without a fight. Can’t do that to Viktor and Yuri and he can’t do that to himself either. He’s sworn to fight for this - for  _ them _ \- and he will. 

They come for him with knives, because the space is too small for shots on a moving target when there’s Ryuichi to consider. It’s his only chance, as slim as it is. Yuuri catches the first man’s advance with his arm, blocking his wrist on a downward thrust and whirls, gun in hand to shoot the first unlucky man in his sights, a tall man with a scar on his jaw. He can end this, easily and fast by shooting Ryuichi but his body stalls on the motion. It costs him momentum and the gun, as the first attacker jumps over his fallen comrade and slashes, aiming for the gun hand. Yuuri jerks on reflex, but is too slow and the knife slices into the flesh of his hand, between thumb and forefinger. It weakens his grip and the gun clatters to the floor. 

Yuuri grits his teeth against the pain and kicks the supporting leg off under a man who’s about to roundhouse kick him in the face. It’s a blur from then on, honed instincts kicking in to guide him through the fight. But Yuuri can feel his energy draining. He’s good, undisputably one of the best, but these men have numerical advantage on him and they are far from being bad. It would be different, maybe, if he could retrieve his gun, because it’s the only one he brought and the only advantage he had.

He’s taken out merely two of them so far and the others are still up, injured but not incapacitated. He’s had to give up his position in favor of a wall in his back and it’s only a matter of time until someone remembers that guns are a thing and shoots him. He’s bleeding from more than one wound and exhaustion is a dog relentlessly snapping at his heels.

It’s only a matter of time. And it’s so frustrating too, because he’d thought he could handle this, thought his brother would hesitate to kill him, but he had forgotten - like a fool - how little his personal happiness means in the face of loyalty.

And there is little Yuuri can do at this point. He feels shaky, because of the blood loss ot the aftereffect of the adrenaline, he can’t say. Chances of him getting out of here are slim, but Yuuri refuses to give up like that. He pushes away from the wall and throws himself against the nearest man. They drop to the floor in a tangle of limbs. Yuuri manages get hold of the man’s gun. He elbows him in the face to keep him down then throws his body around to take aim. He only catches a flash of his brother, before something heavy hits him on the back of the head.

Pain explodes and Yuuri knows instantly that he’s going to pass out. There is a split second of impotent frustration as he can feel the gun slip from his fingers and then the encroaching darkness swallows him.

~*~

Izumi Ryuichi stares at the motionless body of his brother. This day has come with a few unexpected developments. The least of which is that his brother had held his own against eight of his best men. It makes for something to consider, certainly.

But first, he has to deal with the immediate situation. He gives orders to take care of the injured, sends one man to check with the group outside that was to deal with the other Yuri. 

Ryuichi waves a hand and immediately his second is at his side. “Search him and then lock him up. I will decide what to do with him later.” Kill him is the easiest answer, but Yuuri’s better than expected and Ryuichi is loath to discard what is still useful.

“At once,” the man responds. 

Ryuichi watches as his brother is dragged away. Listens silently to the reports trickling in. One of his men is dead, another in critical condition. Everyone else involved in the fight is at least mildly wounded. Yuri Two has gotten away after killing one and critically injuring two more. Impressive feats from both of them.

It’s a nuisance, but Ryuichi is already adjusting his plans. 

He calls for a runner and moments later one appears. He’s small, fidgety and has a red streak in his bleached hair that makes him stand out too much for the job he’s working for. It’s Minami’s kid, born into the family, but he has to work his way up like everyone else. Ryuichi makes a mental note to tell his father to teach him some discipline. Later. 

A lot of things to consider. Later.

“Send for Tsukasa. No delays. I have work for her.”

The boy - and it’s little more than that - bows, too low and then scurries off to carry out the orders. 

Yuuri is a better combatant than Ryuichi had expected, but ultimately it does not matter. He’ll be dealt with one way or another. Yuri is an foreigner and stands out too much amidst the Japanese population. He will be found. And Viktor Nikiforov will die, by Yuuri’s hand or another.

And with Nikiforov dead, the Russian’s chokehold on the continent and subsequent isolation of Japan from the rest of the world will finally cease. It is time that he restores the family to what it once was. 

It is regrettable that Yuuri has switched allegiances - the presence and familiarity he has with the other Yuri more than proves it - but he’d always been expendable. But maybe, Ryuichi thinks as his eyes alight on the form of Tsukasa Kaname as she enters his study, he can find a final purpose for his life.

~*~

Yuuri wakes to glaring pain in his skull and it’s a moment of disorientation before memories rush in and he jolts fully awake. Adrenaline has him frantic, scanning his surroundings for a threat, but he finds himself alone. His hands are tied behind his back and so are his feet. The room he’s in is dark, only lit by the light falling in through a narrow window high on the wall, but it seems to be an empty storage room of sorts. There is nothing but dust bunnies to keep him company. The room is also Western style, which means that the door will provide a serious problem at some point.

So he’s not dead. Yet. 

He struggles into an upright position and takes stock of the situation. As far as he can tell he’s been stripped of all his weapons. The knives are gone from his thigh sheath and his holsters are present but empty. He’d only brought the one gun anyway and he had lost that spectacularly in the fight.

Next is his body. He’s injured, several lacerations, some of them deep enough to be worrisome. He’s been cursorily treated with bandages on the worst of them. Which is… something at least. He has several large bruises that smart when he’s moving and his ribs feel as though they’re caving in, but at least he can tell they’re not broken.

And then there is his head. It’s throbbing with a steady pulse of pain, sending spikes of white hot agony through his skull when he moves too much. He tests for nausea, but at least on that front he’s clear.

Small miracles and all.

Yuuri closes his eyes and simply focuses on breathing. Slowly, the pain in his head subsides until there is only a dull throbbing left. It’s not perfect but it will have to do. He doesn’t know how much time has passed, but chance is it is too much and he has to work on getting out of here.

He maneuvers until he’s on his knees, tied feet propped underneath. He carefully pushes up, until he’s more or less standing.

The bond on his feet is a zip tie which hopefully means his hands are also zip-tied. Yuuri flexes his arms, tests the give he has on his hands. It’s very little and it might be a tight fit, but Minako had trained him in ballet long before she’d trained him in fighting.

_ You’ll thank me later when you face opponents who put all their strength into their torso. All they can do is throw a punch, but you will be able to break necks with your feet. By the time I’m through with you, you’ll have the strongest possible body you can have. Now stop whining and get into position. _

She was right of course. Ballet had given him strength, stamina and flexibility, each of which is invaluable in a fight. Of course, he thinks with a grimace, all of that is for naught when he’s forced to fight close range with more than half a dozen of well trained bruisers.

It takes a lot of effort to squeeze his butt between his arms, and it’s only thanks to his incredible sense of balance that he doesn’t fall over attempting it. But eventually he manages and from there it’s only a matter of sitting down and pulling his legs up against his body so he can draw his arms out over them and in front of him. Zip-tied as he thought.

He inspects it closer. He’d been unconscious when they were fastened, so they sit relatively snug against his skin. He takes the end between his teeth and pulls it tighter, almost to the point of pain. Then he stands up and lifts his hands now balled into fist to his chin. He flares his elbows outwards and then brings his fists down as hard and fast as he can.

It takes him three tries, but then finally the tie gives way to force and snap with a satisfying sound. 

Yuuri slumps down, leaning his back against the wall. The effort had rekindled his headache and all the bruises he’d gathered are noisily complaining too. HIs right hand is throbbing and he’ll have troubles if it comes to a fight. The cut that cost him the gun is deeper than he’d originally thought and motions come off rather stiff.

He takes a moment to pat himself down, confirming the absence of his weapons, his phone and wallet. All things he could desperately need right about now. The wallet only contained some money and a fake ID, but fake or not, he still needs an ID to leave the country. And his phone would have been helpful for the obvious reason.

But there is nothing he can do. If he had to guess they’re with Ryuichi and that means they’re way out of his reach.

Yuuri crawls over the floor in search of the zip tie. He finds it halfway across the room. He uses the thinned end to push on the catch in his legs’ tie and then very carefully pulls the tie through the hole until it is loose enough to slide his feet through.

He’d just significantly increased his chances to get out of here alive. But he’s far from being safe. Careful checking reveals that the door is indeed locked. He doesn’t have anything on him to pick the lock. And even if he gets outside, he’s in no condition to fight his way out. Running is an option, but he needs to find shoes first. And clothes that are intact and clean. They’d stripped him of his jacket and tie, all he’s left with are his torn pants and shirt. Even his socks are gone. He’s a mess and the blood stains alone would draw way too much attention.

Yuuri runs a hand through his hair. It’s difficult to think when his head is still throbbing. The pain has receded to the spot at the back of his head where he had been hit, but it’s still a distraction. He has to get out of here. And fast. He’s still alive and has been treated, but he doubts that his brother is willing to just forgive him. 

He could bide for time. But he has nothing to bargain with. And there is Yuri of course. 

Yuuri has to fight against the onset of panic. There is a high chance that Yuri is dead. And it’s all his fault. 

_ But maybe he isn’t _ , he thinks with almost vicious intensity. Either way, he can’t give up.

Yuuri pushes himself up again and approaches the door. It’s heavy wood, not unbreakable, but certainly not breakable by a bruised up 70 kg hitman with bare feet.

But he’s still alive and chances of his brother planning on starving him to death are slim, so Yuuri settles in to wait, listening carefully for the sound of approaching footsteps.

~*~

No one comes for a long time. Long enough for Yuuri to almost doze off. He’s in the middle of chastising himself when he hears the quiet tap of soles on hardwood floor. It’s the first sound he’s heard since he started and hopefully it’s not someone just walking past. 

Yuuri presses himself flat against the wall. The door opens outwards, so he’ll have to be quick.

The door opens and a figure steps right over the threshold - foolish mistake. Yuuri slides in behind him, hooks his foot on the figure’s - a man - ankle and brings them both down to the floor with Yuuri on top. There is a high pitched squeak and lots of flailing and then Yuuri realizes that the body he’s pinning down is too slight to be a man. It’s a boy.

“Katsuki-san, I’m sorry, I came to help you, please don’t kill me, Ionlywanttohelpplease.”

Yuuri quickly assesses the corridor outside the room; long and deserted. They’re clear for now. Then, very carefully he sits back, keeping the boy pinned but giving him room to calm down. He looks vaguely familiar, but Yuuri doesn’t recall ever seeing someone with bleached blond hair with a red streak. That’s the kind of thing you remember.

“Who are you?”

The boy blinks up at him with wide, scared eyes. “Minami Kenjirou,” he whispers.

The names is familiar. Minami Daisuke was one of his father’s men, well respected and skilful. Yuuri doesn’t remember ever meeting his son.

“What do you want?”

“To resc- I mean to help you.”

“Why?”

This seems to stump Minami. He blinks up at Yuuri, evidently confused. “Because you’re my hero?” It’s incongruous, outlandish, but is delivered with absolute sincerity.

Yuuri swallows. He pushes away from Minami finally, wondering if this can be real or if it is a trap. But Minami doesn’t run, doesn’t make an attempt to jump Yuuri either. Instead he sits up to rub his arms and stares at Yuuri with wide-eyed adoration.

“You could die for this,” Yuuri says and it comes out stunned. 

Something like determination dawns over Minami’s features. “I know. But you don’t deserve to be killed by your brother. I want to help you.”

“You shouldn’t,” Yuuri says and finally gets up. He peeks out the door, but the hallway is deserted. They seem to be in an abandoned part of the building. The corridor outside is just as dusty as the room was.

“It’s not fair,” Minami insists. “You did nothing wrong, but follow your dreams. You should have the freedom to choose for yourself.”

It’s an odd way to put it, but Yuuri has no time to figure it out. The footprints leading to the door are obvious. There are the larger prints of the men who must have carried him here. Carried, he notes, and not dragged. In between the smaller ones from Minami stand out. They could swipe the floor, but that would raise suspicion. 

“DId you think this through?” Yuuri asks.

Minami startles but then jumps to his feet. “Yes,” he declares. “I know a way out that no one else knows. A secret exit. I can show you.”

Yuuri stares at Minami for a moment and then back to the footprints on the floor. He could try and fake a hostage situation, but there is no reason for Minami to be here to begin with. Yuuri feels something faintly reminiscent of panic. 

“I need to find my friend. The Russian that came with me, where is he?”

Minami beams up at him. “He escaped. He kicked some serious ass and managed to slip away.”

The relief that hits him is imbalancing. He’d hoped that Yuri was still alive, but he hadn’t dared to believe he got away. 

“All right,” he says, “show me the way out.” He’ll find something to swipe their footprints, buy some more time. And he’ll figure something out for Minami.

Of course, all of that is moot if this turns out to be a trap. But it doesn’t make sense for this to be a trap. It’s too convoluted, too  _ pointless _ . 

Walking hurts, his bruised body complaining more than ever now that he’d forced it into yet another scuffle and hard impact on the floor. Minami notices his wincing and starts apologizing for failing to bring a first aid kit. Yuuri waves him off.

He can figure that out later. First, they need to get out of the estate. Minami leads him down the corridor and then through a narrow door into another empty room, some sort of hall this time at whose end a large set of double doors beckons with a way outside. There’s still the wall to contend with, of course. But Minami assures him that he knows a way through, because  _ climbing  _ is certainly not an option at the moment.

Yuuri stalwartly ignores the panic in his belly. He doesn’t know where to go from here, what to do. He’s injured and ill equipped and he has almost no friends in Hasetsu, none he can rely on and his family-

_ His family _ .

Yuuri feels dread coil in his belly, sharp and imminent. Ryuichi might come after his family, thinking it the most logical place for Yuuri to go for help. And he can’t protect them, not in his condition. 

“Katsuki-san?” Minami looks up at him, worried.

Yuuri presses the palm of his hand flat against the wall. Tries to breathe through the rising panic. He has to get away, but doing so might get his family killed.

“Everything all right?” Minami asks, worried and they don’t have time for this. They need to-

One of the doors swings open, shutting off Yuuri’s rambling thoughts. Three men enter, closing the door behind them with an ominous, resounding thud. Among them, Yuuri recognizes Ryuichi’s second in command, Takagi, a man that had been by his brother’s side since his birth.

“Katsuki Yuuri,” he says, “just where do you think you are going?”

~*~

The call catches him in the middle of a meeting, so Viktor hangs up without checking. It’s normally not his style, but this meeting is important like no other. He’s summoned the entirety of the  _ Avtoriyet _ and selected representatives of the  _ Boyevik _ . He’d expanded their influence under Yakov’s rule, because it was what he thought was needed, but as a  _ Pakhan _ himself he realized how foolish it is to stretch their forces this thin. Right now many of the men are tied up in territories outside of Russia, maintaining Viktor’s stronghold. It does bring in money but costs them too.

So Viktor has used Yuuri’s absence for productiveness, restructuring the entire internal organization of the  _ Bratva _ as a whole to maximize their effectiveness. It took a while, but Viktor is happy with the results. They’ll still maintain their stronghold over Russia, but instead of focusing on the countries surrounding them, Viktor has planned to spread their influence worldwide, focusing more on more global oriented operations like cyber crime and arms deals. With their main powerbase in St. Petersburg, Russia.

It’s gonna take time though and he’s not sure all of his people are quite happy with the changes, but none voices an open complaint and he does recognize the sparkle in the eyes of some of them. 

Still, it will be a monumental effort and Viktor is apprehensive of the time it will take. It’ll leave them vulnerable, too many men tied up in setting up new ventures, cleaning up the old. But they’ll prevail.

The meeting over, he dismisses the men to their new duties. Some are still skeptical, but overall the excitement prevails. He’s done it again, surprised them when they thought they’d seen everything. It is a relief in a way, that he can still do it, can still find some semblance of thrill and excitement in this business. 

It’s a feeling that shatters when he checks his phone in the privacy of his quarters. The call is from Yuri and a bad feeling settles in his gut. Yuri is not someone to check in for the sake of checking in. There is just that one call and he’s left a voicemail with it.

_ Oi Viktor, pick up your fucking phone. _ There is a moment of silence and then Viktor can hear an audible exhale. A sigh.  _ Listen, we have a problem. _ It’s unusual to hear Yuri this serious and it makes Viktor’s nerves frazzle.  _ We walked into an ambush or something. I don’t know _ .  _ They separated me from the pig- _ There is an abrupt pause and Viktor can hear the faint sound of a shoe hitting something solid.  _ I fucked up okay? But I’ll fix it, I promise. I got away, but they got Yuuri. He’s still alive, I think. It’s been a day almost, I don’t know. I’ll get him out, I will. I swear to you I will. I don’t know-  _ there is a sound Viktor can’t place, the rasping of fabric over metal maybe? And then, _ fuck I need to go _ .

_ No,  _ Viktor wants to say. But a beep tells him that Yuri hung up the call. He checks the time. Half an hour ago. Viktor hesitates. Yuri’s good, but there’s a chance he forgot to turn his phone on silence. If Viktor calls him and ends up giving his position away…

There is no way of knowing for sure. He can’t risk it.

Viktor curses violently.  _ They got Yuuri _ . What happened? He can barely think straight. Thoughts are tumbling over each other, scenarios and options and none of them make any sense. He needs to- 

The click of a gun safety coming off drags him from his impending panic. There is a man - no, a woman - dressed in black infiltration gear in his room, back to the door to block the one exit he has. He did not notice her entering. She’s a foreigner, probably Japanese, her face exposed and Viktor knows what that means. Knows what it means that she lets him see her, when it’s so obvious what she’s come here to do.

He’s not going to walk out of this alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what was that about cliffhangers?


	3. Chapter 3

They’re exposed, out in the open and that’s the worst position they could be in. Yuuri’s thoughts are running a mile a minute, calculating different scenarios and outcomes only to come up short every single time.

And then Minami Kenjirou steps right in front of him and into the line of fire. “Leave him alone,” he says, fiery and utterly convinced this is the right thing. That Yuuri is somehow worth this sacrifice.

“Step away, Kenjirou. You might still be forgiven, on your father’s accomplishments if nothing else,” Takagi says calmly. He doesn’t lower his gun, but he keeps his eye on Yuuri the whole time. “This has nothing to do with you,”  The two men at his side spread out slightly, filling the space between them and the exit, a noose tightening around its prey.

“No,” Minami says, conviction unwavering and Yuuri feels his heart lurch. This isn’t right. Minami should not bargain his life for Yuuri’s.

He steps forward, puts a hand on Minami’s shoulder to root him in place and then walks past. Minami’s shock glances off him, as Yuuri slips once again into a well worn persona.

“I presume my brother wishes to see me?” he says, all haughty command and fearless bravado. It’s a mask more than anything, but it’s a mask he has worn countless times before. It’s the mask that these people know as the real him and he can see, from the corner of his eyes, the pale fear on the two henchmen’s faces.

“I should kill you on the spot,” Takagi says with a sneer. He’s the only one who seems unaffected, but he’d also been there when Yuuri has so foolishly laid open his allegiance to Russia.

Yuuri measures the distance between them. Stepping past Minami has brought him closer, almost in striking distance. The gun’s a problem, but so far it’s the only one aimed at him. The other two have yet to draw theirs - foolish, so utterly foolish. But he can work with that.

He’s tired, bruised and definitely not on top of his game. And  _ that _ is a problem, but Yuuri will make it work on willpower alone if he has to.

“Probably,” he allows. “But your orders are to bring me in alive.” And that’s a surprise, to no one more than Yuuri, but he’s still alive and not yet shot on sight. “So I suppose we can save us both the time and stop posturing.”

Takagi regards him for a moment. “True,” he says, “but my orders didn’t say anything about you being unharmed.”

And this - gloating, the desire to have the last word - costs him. Because in all the time he’d been at Ryuichi’s side he had never needed to understand that rules did not matter for people like Yuuri. Yuuri’s job requires him to get the job done, no matter the cost. So he’s already moving, the moment Takagi’s focus shifts, before even his arm moves, before he even finishes the sentence he had meant to punctuate with taking out Yuuri’s kneecaps. He immobilizes Takagi’s gun arm with a well-aimed jab to the wrist, stunning the nerves there temporarily. The gun clatters to the floor and it’s a narrow thing too, because the safety’s off and the impact looses a shot. It whizzes past Yuuri’s head, close enough that he can feel the air displacement.

It’s as much momentum as he can build before the other two guys are on him.

And this, it’s always an advantage Yuuri prefers not to give his opponents, the ‘capture him alive or else’, because it is crippling in the worst possible way, because it’s impossible to incapacitate a limb when there are so many flailing around.

And there is Minami too. And Yuuri did not count on him as an advantage, but he turns out to be one anyway, because it’s days like this when karma decides to pay back it’s life debt of luck.

Yuuri blocks the oncoming attack of the first man who comes after him, hapless to the attack of the second, because he’s slower than he should be, thanks to his injuries, but Minami’s there, filling the gap with a quickness that is astounding.

It makes the fight easier, not having to watch his own back, and it pays off doubly when it gives Yuuri the opportunity to notice the gap in the attacks, the attacker that’s missing when he should be picking up his underlings’ slack. 

Takagi reaches for the gun and Yuuri’s body reacts on its own. He throws himself down, catching a punch to his shoulder that he brushes off on force, all to dive and roll not for the gun but for the man reaching for it. The impact rattles him and Yuuri almost loses focus as the pain of his various injuries spikes through him, but he clings to adrenaline-induced clarity with dogged determination. They wrangle for the gun, Takagi managing to close his hand around the barrel a millisecond before impact. But he can’t aim it, not with Yuuri grinding his wrist into the ground with all the force he has.

They’re locked in stalemate for a few, harsh seconds, but then Takagi jerks, eyes widening and grip loosening and he falls, like a puppet with its strings cut. From his back protrudes a knife, a flower of red slowly blossoming around the handle.

Minami’s the thrower and all he gets is a moment of wide-eyed eye contact with Yuuri, before he’s tackled to the ground by the last man standing, the other lying in a motionless heap.

The fight is over a moment later when Yuuri shoots the man, just as he’s about to strangle Minami.

~*~

Viktor Nikiforov had always been a stout believer in the simple truth of death. Death teaches you the true measure of a man, it strips away all pretense, all masks and leaves with you with the simple truth. There is a lot to learn from how a man faces his fate. He’d helped countless men and women over the threshold himself. And he had learned one thing, death is kind to no one.

There were those few who remained stoic, of course, defiant even in the face of their demise. Even when Viktor took a blade to their skin, even as he recounted the stories they told about him. Even when he showed them the sadist that slept under his skin. But even they had faltered in the end, begging him for mercy, crying, praying. In the end had all been the same.

It’s what he thinks of when he turns fully to face the assassin, thinks of when he puts on a smile that masks the fear in his chest. “What a pleasant surprise,” he says, projecting all the calm and unconcerned bravado he can muster, But there’s so little he can draw from, because it's not just fear for himself, it’s fear for Yuuri and Yuri and all the people left behind undefended, if he dies.

The woman’s face remains stoic without emotion. She reaches into her pocket and it’s only the fact that the gun is already trained on him that keeps him from flinching when she pulls it out again. It’s a phone. She swipes a thumb and the screen comes to life. The hand with the gun hasn’t moved an inch.

There’s potential here, a distraction, but Viktor can read the cool expression in her eyes, knows it for the focus that it is. If he moves, he’s dead.

She tosses the phone and Viktor catches it on reflex, heart pounding but it’s not a trap she meant to be fatal. The call she’s put through connects. “Mr Nikiforov.” The voice is too loud in the tense silence. It doesn’t quite feel as though Viktor’s in control when he lifts the phone to his ears. He feels like he’s underwater, the illusion of stillness surrounding him when in truth everything is in constant motion.

“Izumi-san,” he says, voice the calmest part of him. 

There is a soft noise of amusement, as though a chuckle just barely loud enough to transmit. It feels a bit like drowning too, like pressure building on his ear drums, like fighting just to stay afloat.

“Where is Yuuri?” Viktor asks in English, voice utterly cold.

There is the faintest of twitch in the assassin’s stillness, as though she’d wanted to jerk and aborted the motion at the last moment. Viktor trails his eyes down her arm, lets her know that he _ knows _ .

“Oh, he’s right here.” The amusement drips like honey from Ryuichi’s voice. “Put up quite a fight too.” There is a sound that Viktor is intimately familiar with, the sound of flesh hitting flesh, a muffled grunt. He’s done it himself countless times, he knows where to hit when you just want to warn them off and where to hit when you want it to be permanent.

He stares at the barrel of the gun, because it’s the nearest thing he can do to closing his eyes and not seeing at all. It hurts deeper than he’d ever known anything to hurt. ”You shouldn’t do that,” he says softly, almost gently, but the steel is there and the proof is in the reflexive tightening of the woman’s hand around the grip of the gun. This time she did not catch the motion in time. “It will cost you.”

Viktor smiles and it feels like it’s carved into his face. His eyes remain cold.

“That’s the thing,” Ryuichi responds, equally as softly, “you will not remain alive long enough for it to matter.”

~*~

Minami Kenjirou is nothing short of a genius, Yuuri thinks. He’s grown up in the family and since his father had been in Izumi’s inner circle, that means Minami had actually grown up on the family compound. The compound is large, sprawling, once belonging to a daimyo who’d ruled over the surrounding lands. The old, traditionally styled buildings had been largely modernized - westernized, but there are a few buildings that remain the same. 

One of them being the old teahouse that sits in the middle of an idyllic pond at the back of the estate, close to the old wall that still surrounds the compound. 

It’s only a shadowy silhouette now, framed by a backdrop of a star-dotted sky. Dawn is not yet close enough to brighten the horizon, but it’s only matter of a scarce few hours. They used the cover of night to sneak over the compound. The silence is deceptive and more than once do they have to press into shadowy corners and wait until the sound of footsteps fades. It’s not yet open alarm, but it is evident that Ryuichi somewhat anticipated Yuuri’s escape. Minami had thrown himself on the ground and begged for forgiveness the moment the dust had settled, swearing on his life that he had not known it would be a trap.

The old Yuuri would have killed him then, for little else than being a liability. He’d have hated it, but he would have done it simply because it needed doing. But there had been no thought of that now, not even a moment’s consideration because Minami had made a choice that would cost him more than it would Yuuri, and if nothing else, Yuuri understood  _ loyalty _ .

And so they are here now, sneaking over the narrow bridge that leads to the island with the teahouse.

Minami’s eyes are excited as he tells Yuuri of his exploits in hushed whispers, how he’d played here as a child, alone, because there was no one else of his age and the adults had better things to do than entertain a curious child.

The teahouse harbors a secret exit, a tunnel leading right under the surrounding wall.

The story, according to Minami, goes like this: The daimyo had a mistress, a young woman from the village, who he’d met in secret in the teahouse. His wife, supposedly, disliked tea and never set foot in it. So the daimyo had the tunnel built in secret to allow his mistress to come visit him.

“I don’t think anyone knows about this, except for me,” Minami says. “I discovered it by accident.” He opens a closet that’s empty now, feels around at the back until he finds something and then the floor slides to the side on soundless tracks. “I oiled it,” Minami whispers conspiratorially. “I used it to sneak out sometimes.”

It must be true too, because there is scant activity at this part of the compound, where the buildings are smaller and more traditional and vegetation has come to reclaim much. There is nothing here too, except for old buildings and vegetation crawling up a wall that’s too high to climb with a body that feels like it’s broken.

Still, they are quiet and careful as they crawl into the tunnel, Minami first. Yuuri closes the closet door, before climbing down the latter and then he pulls closed the fake floor and casts them both into near impenetrable darkness.

It doesn’t feel real to crawl through the narrow space, a tunnel hewn from rock. This doesn’t fit into the modern world with its guns and violence. Yuuri presses the palm of his hand flat against the stone and thinks,  _ this is real _ .

It’s remarkable that the tunnel hasn’t collapsed. No one uses the teahouse, it’s empty and full of dust. Minami had explained that he had to clear out large portions of debris in the beginning, almost getting stuck on one occasion. The walls close in around Yuuri and he has to count his breaths to keep them steady. He’s not claustrophobic, but he might as well be with how oppressing the tunnel feels. 

“We’re almost there,” Minami informs him.

Yuuri has to take his word for it, because he cannot tell a difference until Minami stops and there is the faintest change in light. Dirt and grass rain down, the smell of wet earth follows. They’re just outside the wall, the trapdoor nestled close and hidden by the undergrowth and a generous layer of soil.

It’s not hidden that well, but this doesn’t look like a place anyone has been looking at recently. It’s at the back of the compound, where the edge of the forest reaches greedy branches over the wall. It’s a narrow strip of trees, behind it the ocean laps against a rocky shore.

There is a moment of tense silence after the trapdoor has fallen shut and Minami has covered it with dirt to hide it away. Without knowing where to look it would take a lot of time to find it again. 

Minami is kneeling in the dirt, eyes downcast and he has yet to make another move. It’s an odd contrast to his almost nervous energy from before. Yuuri’s own body is aching and all he wants is to collapse and lie down but he can’t, not with his family in potential danger.

But there is no going back now, if there ever even was a chance to go back and atone by dying at his brother’s hand. 

“Katsuki-san,” Minami says quietly. He fidgets, crushes a crumb of soil between his fingers. Yuuri recognizes this, from his childhood, the struggle with words. Something that needs saying but the words will invariably fail. 

“Let’s go,” he says, “I might have a place for us to stay.”  _ And come up with a plan for what to do next, _ he thinks but does not say.

Minami is visibly surprised, but he nods and gets up. He holds out a helping hand a moment later, when it becomes evident that Yuuri has difficulties getting up by himself. Yuuri doesn’t tell him that he doesn’t know just how welcome they’ll be. But the Nishigoris are close with the Katsukis, with his parents and sister and if nothing else, they will offer help for their sake. Or so he hopes. He hasn’t seen either of them for over a year and it’s not an easy thing to reconcile that Yuuri has chosen a Russian mob boss over his own homeland.

He also doesn’t point out the very obvious fact that Minami’s destroyed any chance for him to return to the service of the Katsuki family. For better or for worse, he’s thrown his lot in with Yuuri and Yuuri will make sure that the unwarranted loyalty will be repaid in due.

~*~

“Is that all you have to say?” Viktor asks. He barely hears it through the rush of blood in his ears. This isn’t how it’s supposed to go. He’s lived a violent life, so a violent end is what he’s alway calculated with. But he hadn’t thought it to come this early, this surprising and least of all had he thought that it would catch him entirely unprepared.

It’s regrettable that he will never learn how she maneuvered past his security system. But it doesn’t really matter, not when his hands are so damnable close to shaking and when his heartbeat frantically reminds him of his own fragility. He’s not supposed to die like this. Alone.

He’s not supposed to die and leave Yuuri alone.

And if this is indeed his measure, then Viktor can at least say his one regret is leaving behind the people he loves.

“Don’t worry,” Ryuichi says, as if he hadn’t heard Viktor’s words, “You won’t be alone for long.”

It’s like drowning, except you can’t fall underwater, only sink but Viktor’s been free falling since the moment he heard Yuri say  _ they got Yuuri _ .

He’s not supposed to die like this, alone and helpless while  _ Yuuri is in danger _ .

“There is something you need to understand, Mr Nikiforov. We could have been allies, the two of us. I would have prefered your partnership over Mr Linh’s, in all honesty. You Russians understand honor. But you never left room on the board for anyone but yourself. I respect the audacity of course, for it is what we all strive to do. It is regrettable trul. We could have been allies, but we could have never been equals. You would not have let us be. And I have no need for allies who take what is not theirs to take.”

There is a short pause, almost as if Ryuichi has to consider his next words. “I would have liked to be your ally, Mr Nikiforov. But circumstances are as they are. I regret this deeply, I do. But it changes little. Goodbye, Mr Nikiforov.”

Of all the things he could have said to that in response, none make it out in time before Izumi Ryuichi hangs up the phone.

A loud crash is all the warning they get, before Georgi Popovich comes barreling through the door and flings himself past the assassin and down to his knees right in front of Viktor, shouting apologies at the top of his lungs.

~*~

Hasetsu is a small town, built mostly on tourism. But tourism had dried to a trickle a long time ago and what keeps the town alive now is the shady dealings of its most prominent family. The Izumi’s have lived here for only a few generations, but they made Hasetsu their stronghold and with their rise in power came the invariable rise of business. Not all of it is illegal, but it would be difficult to extricate the illegal dealings from the legal businesses.

As a result, the picturesque and idyllic seeming city is the most unsafe place for them to be in Japan right now.

_ Everyone _ knows at least one member of the yakuza, is in some way affiliated with them, even if through a long stretch of acquaintances or distant cousins. The people know him and will remember him and when Ryuichi comes asking, they will point him in the right direction.

This is his home, but it doesn’t quite feel like it when he’s forced to sneak through shadows and alleyways. Even as the time he’d spent growing up here comes back to him with all the little secret routes and shortcuts you only seem to be able to discover as a child. 

Minami has to help him over the fence that surrounds the home of the Nishigoris. It’s a small house, but it’s secluded, residing near the edge of town where urbanization is less dense. The ice castle where Yuuri used to skate is nearby, but going there is the most obvious thing he would do, so for that simple reason, he can’t.

The Nishigoris used to be an independent yakuza family, small and mostly invested in local crimes. At one point they’d been faced with the decision of either disbanding or joining the larger Izumi clan as a subsidiary. They’d gone with the latter out of self preservation, but there is little love lost between the two families. The Izumis are  _ strangers _ , their lineage not yet rooted in Hasetsu history and despite all the rejuvenation they’ve done, many of the old families resent them for their interloping.

They approach the house from the back like thieves in the night. Yuuri had relieved Takagi of his shoes and jacket, alongside his gun. It’s not a comfortable fit and he’s fairly sure all the fighting and sneaking around has reopened at least some of his wounds. He wants to rest more than anything, even as a constant worry gnaws in his stomach. Despite his misgivings, there is little choice. The house has no back door, so they have to sneak to the front through the garden. Yuuri knocks on the door, careful not to make too much noise.

Nishigori Takeshi greets them with a gun, the cold metal glint of it muted in the pale moonlight. His face doesn’t lose the hostility even as he recognizes Yuuri. 

“What do you want?” he asks. The gun is still up, but Takeshi hasn’t slammed the door in their face and that’s as much as Yuuri had dared to hope for anyway.

“I need your help,” he says. 

“I can see that.” Takeshi’s eyes flick to Minami.

Before Yuuri can respond there’s footsteps and then Yuuko peeks out from behind her husband. “Yuuri,” she says and then summarily elbows her husband out of the way to envelop him in a tight hug. “You’re all right,” she breathes, “we were so worried.”

Yuuri’s exhausted, wants nothing more than to lie down and rest but he tenses all the same at Yuuko’s words. “We?” he asks hesitantly. He darts his eyes to Takeshi who’d finally put down the gun and is now eyeing the surroundings for anything suspicious.

Yuuko pulls back slightly to look at him. “Yeah,” she says, but Yuuri is no longer listening. He’s spotted the figure looming behind Yuuko in the narrow entryway. Someone he hadn’t seen in a long, long time. Once upon a time best hitman of the Izumi clan, but now working as an enforcer and his former teacher, Okukawa Minako.

~*~

“I’m so sorry Viktor, please forgive me.” Georgi with his flair for the overdramatic, who could do nothing at less than 200% is kneeling in front of Viktor, face pressed into the floor. It takes Viktor a second too long to recover, the shock of it simply too much. Mila following scarce seconds behind Georgi adds little clarity. But Viktor is not the only one who can’t quite compute.

Except that it proves fatal for the assassin, because a split second is all Mila Babicheva needs to assess the threat to her boss and take action. She raises the gun in her hand and puts a bullet into the back of the assassin’s head.

Blood and gore spray from the exit wound, cascading down her face and it's a gruesome sight, the wide eyed surprise and the ragged hole in her forehead. She makes no sound when she falls, only a dull thud when her head impacts with the floor, blood spreading immediately around it like a halo.

“Okay,” Viktor says, feeling the furthest from okay. “What just happened?”

Mila blows air through her nostrils, pressing her lips together and casts Georgi an irritated glance. “You are lucky you told me to spare him,” she says. And then, turning to Georgi, “get up, you are an embarrassment.”

“Not until Viktor has forgiven me,” Georgi says, face still pressed against the floor. A tendril of blood is quickly making its way towards him, but Georgi doesn’t move. 

“Forgiven for what?” Viktor says impatiently.

“I didn’t mean to lie to you,” Georgi says, fast enough so that the words blur together. “I am so sorry, I should have told you. But this was my mess and I had to clean it up myself.”

_ Mess _ , Viktor thinks and then, “this is about Anya, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Mila says.She squats down and turns the assassin on her back. Starts patting her down. “That idiot over there got it in his mind to take care of Anya himself. Ah,” she pauses and looks up at Viktor, “you don’t know that yet. Anya set up shop with the Koreans, don’t ask me how, and was happily siphoning off your well-earned money.” She shrugs. “Georgi here was well aware, but she had apparently gotten the contact infos and all from him, so he decided to uproot the entire operation by himself. Beautiful job by the way. It would have really helped though, if  _ you had told someone _ .”

Georgi nods frantically, which only results in him repeatedly banging his forehead against the floor. Viktor runs a hand over his eyes. It’s shaking now that the tension has fled and suddenly he feels very unsteady on his feet.

“Get up,” he says to Georgi, walking past him to plop down in his arm chair. When Georgi makes no move to obey, he adds, “I forgive you.”

Georgi climbs to his feet. “Thank you boss.” And then he bows deeply, almost too deep and he has to catch himself on the wall so as not to topple over.

“Now,” Mila says and stands. In her hands are her findings, among which is a small device Viktor has never seen before. “What the hell was  _ this _ ?” She lightly kicks the dead woman, a frown of distaste on her face. “How did she get in here and what did she want?”

Viktor leans his head back and closes his eyes. “To kill me to the former and you should have left her alive so that we could ask her for the latter.”

“Well, she was pointing a gun at you. I wasn’t going to take any chances.”

Viktor exhales slowly. “Thank you,” he says. “I mean it.” Mila doesn’t respond and Viktor opens his eyes again. She is looking at him funnily. “What?

Mila shakes her head and then sighs. “You could have died. You could have fucking died and I only got to save you because Georgi fucking Popovich is too much of a drama queen to do anything normally.” Mila rarely curses, that she does now shows how shaken up she is. “So what now?”

Viktor stares down at the crumpled body. This was a long time in the making. She must have expended a lot of time and effort to stake him out, to learn his habits. To know that he had a strict no business after closing time policy, meaning he allowed absolutely no one to disturb him once he went home. Emergencies were to relayed by phone if urgent enough. There is absolutely no way anyone could have predicted Georgi to come in when he did.

Mila is right, he would have died if it weren’t for that. 

And Ryuichi had waited until Yuuri was in Japan, before making his move. To what end? Evidently, it hadn’t gone according to plan if Yuri’s frantic message is anything to go by. Viktor’s hand tightens around the phone he is still holding. 

“Now,” he says softly, “we prepare for war.”

~*~

It’s been years since the last time he has seen Minako-sensei, but she hasn’t changed one bit. The same deadly grace, the same cool glint in her eyes. 

She’s close to the Katsukis and the Nishigoris, but she’s in the Izumi’s service. The one good thing his father has ever done for him was asking her to mentor Yuuri. She’s taught him everything from ballet to the art of killing. She shouldn’t be here, not now. She has no reason to be here, she was his father’s best enforcer, there is no way Ryuichi would give her up.

The betrayal shouldn’t hurt as much as it does. Going to Yuuko had been a long shot and their allegiance to the Katsukis did not mean they would help him.

Yuuri tenses for a fight he knows he can’t win. Not in the state he is in, not against Okukawa Minako.

“Oh will you stop that? I’m not here to bust you.” Minako crosses her arms and scowls at him. She doesn’t make any move to come closer and slowly, Yuuri relaxes.

“Won’t you come in?” Yuuko asks hesitantly. “Both of you,” she adds with a side glance to Minami. She doesn’t sound it, but she’s tense too.

Still eyeing Minako, Yuuri steps over the threshold, Minami on his heels. The door falls shut behind him with a resounding thud.

“You look horrible,” Minako says. 

“Thank you,” Yuuri says blandly. He’s still not sure what to make of this and he can’t quite find it in him yet to let his guard down completely. Still, he toes off his shoes and steps into the house proper.

“Let me get a look at you,” Yuuko gently takes him by the wrist and pulls him deeper into the house. “We can talk while I get you fixed up.”

“I’ll make some tea,” Takeshi says gruffly. He shoots a glare at Yuuri over Yuuko’s head, but there is no more pistol waving so Yuuri guesses at least from that front he has nothing to fear.

“I’ll…. uh just… wait here,” Minami says meekly.

“Guess again, short stuff,” Minami ruffles his hair while walking past. “You’re coming with me.” 

Minami casts a slightly panicked glance in Yuuri’s direction, but before he can say anything, Minako calls over her shoulder, “don’t worry. I won’t harm the little one. Much.” She winks at Yuuri and somehow that gesture more than anything assures him that they have nothing to fear. “Oi, you know how to mix a proper martini? We need to let those guys catch up…” he hears her saying as she leds Minami into the kitchen.

“It’s all right,” Yuuko says. “She’s on our side.” She goes to rummage through a wall closet for a first aid kit.

“And what is our side?” Yuuri asks warily from the door. 

Yuuko looks up at him. “Mari called a few hours ago.”

Yuuri tenses. “What-”

“They’re all right,” Yuuko cuts him off. And then, “sit down. I will explain.”

Yuuri walks over hesitantly to the pillows grouped around a kotatsu. It’s turned off and the blanket is folded neatly in the closet that Yuuko closes a moment later. The house is modern enough to have central heating installed and there aren’t any tatami rooms as far as Yuuri can tell, but he knows Yuuko had always loved her family’s kotatsu. Having it here is… strangely comforting.

Yuuko kneels next to him with the first aid kit, but before she can start talking, Takeshi interrupts them with the promised tea. He doesn’t leave afterwards, but instead opts to sit down on the sofa pushed up against the wall. Yuuko shrugs apologetically, but otherwise doesn’t acknowledge her husband’s interference.

Reluctantly, Yuuri begins to strip to expose the relevant injuries.

“Mari called because Minako informed her of what happened,” Yuuko begins as she carefully unwraps the bandage around Yuuri’s palm. The cut there is deep and he feels a certain stiffness in his thumb that has him lowkey worried. “Yuuri,” she suddenly says and looks up at him. “Is it true?”

“Is what true?” he asks tiredly. “Is it true that my brother tried to kill me? Is it true that we killed his right hand man? Is it true that he-”  _ asked me to kill Viktor? _ Is what he can’t quite bring himself to say.

“You what?” Takeshi leans forward, glaring at him. “You killed Takagi? Are you  _ insane _ ?”

“ _ Takeshi, _ ” Yuuko hisses, but even she can’t hide the worry.

“I did,” Yuuri says dully. “Well, Minami did, but when it comes down to it, it might as well have been me. And while we’re at it, I also betrayed the family for a  _ rosuke.” _

“Yeah,” Yuuko says tightly, “we guessed that part.” She doesn’t say anything more, just fixes her attention on treating his injuries. The disinfectant stings, but Yuuri is just glad that it’s taken care off. He wishes he could take some painkillers too, but that might not be such a good idea at the moment. Instead, he takes a sip from the tea Takeshi’s brought and lets that soothe him.

The silence is awkward, but Yuuri is too exhausted to bother breaking it. Or at least he would want to leave it, but there is still some answers he needs. “So Minako called Mari. What then?”  _ And more importantly, why? _

“She was worried,” Yuuko says.

“Of course she was. She’s my sister.”   
Yuuko blows air out through her nose. “Not Mari. Minako.”

“Why would she be worried?”

Suddenly Yuuko’ standing, looming over him with an expression of anger on her face. “Because you almost died you giant prick. We were worried sick. Minako tried to get Ryuichi to let her see you, make sure you’re all right. But he wouldn’t let her. We were figuring out a plan to  _ rescue  _ you.”

Yuuri can only stare at her. “Why?” he manages eventually.

Yuuko makes an enraged sound at the back of her throat and stomps her foot. For a moment Yuuri thinks she’s going to throttle him. Then she whirls around and storms out of the room. 

“You’re an idiot,” Takeshi informs him gleefully. Despite his words, he stands up from his seat to come over and pick up Yuuko’s abandoned work. He’s less gentle, but also more efficient - less afraid to tie the bandages as tight as they need to be.

“So you say,” Yuuri says, still staring at the door Yuuko stormed through moments ago. “What did I do?”

“You mean other than being an ignorant dick?”

Yuuri is too tired to glare, so he simply ignores the comment. Takeshi sighs. “Look, she really cares for you.  _ We _ really care for you. I think you’re a standoffish prick most of the time, but I am still your friend. When we heard Ryuichi had summoned you we were happy at first. We haven’t seen you in forever. And then Mari calls in a frantic rage, saying that Ryuichi ordered you killed. I think the only reason Minako didn’t strangle him was because you were still alive. I’ve never seen that woman cry, but I swear to God, she looked about to. It was scary. And then you show up like nothing happened, except you look like you’d tried to get it on with a rake and you’re even more of standoffish prick than I remember, but at least you’re alive.”

“Oh,” Yuuri says. 

Takeshi rolls his eyes. “Idiot,” he mutters under his breath but there is undeniable fondness in his voice. Takeshi had always had a hard time showing his feelings, instead opting to pull Yuuko’s hair to get her attention. It hadn’t worked, but Takeshi hadn’t really ever learned his lesson, at least when it came to showing his feelings for Yuuri. Or at least that’s what Yuuko had explained to him once.

Takeshi finished his work and then Yuuri went through the laborious task of clambering to his feet. He found Yuuko with Minako and MInami, who contrary to the earlier announcement were not well on their way to getting drunk. Instead, they all sat around the kitchen table, with cups of tea or coffee in front of them, eagerly sharing stories of what appeared to be Yuuri’s various exploits. Minami seemed especially starry-eyed as he was listening of Minako retelling the story of Yuuri’s ‘epic quest to win a mobster’s heart’.

Having it phrased like this brought home just how absurd his obsession with Viktor must have seemed to outsiders. All those corpses he had desecrated for the sake of conversation.

“Yuuri,” Minami jumps up the moment he sees him, but is immediately forced back into his seat by Minako. “Is it true? You seduced the legendary Snake with dead bodies?”

Yuuri groans and sits down on the last free seat. Takeshi simply lifts his wife up from hers, sits down and plops her on his lap. She endures it with the kind of domestic fondness Yuuri had never quite understood until he’d met Viktor.

“I guess so,” he allows.

“That’s so awesome.”

“That’s one thing to call it,” Minako mutters. “You should call your family. I sent Mari a message that you’re fine. But they deserves to hear it from you.”

Yuuri swallows. “That’s the reason I actually came here. I need your help.”

“You don’t say,” Minako says wryly. Yuuri can’t quite meet her eyes. What Takeshi said to him is still too fresh, too new to really wrap his head around. He had grown up with Takeshi and Yuuko and Minako had been his teacher, but all of it had been in the cradle of his family background. They were all tied to the yakuza and so Yuuri had simply assumed that the bonds they formed were tied into that too.

Apparently he had been wrong.

“My brother, I think he might come after them.”

It has the table at high alert instantly.

“Did he say something?” Yuuko demands to know.

Yuuri shakes his head. “Not to me. But it is the most likely place I would go after escaping. And I did kill Takagi. He is bound to be vengeful.”

“You didn’t,” Minami insists, “I did.”

He’s too tired too smile, but he tries one for Minami’s sake anyway. “Yeah, but it’s better if we say I did it. There’s already a price on my head.”

Minami’s expression clouds over. “That’s not fair,” he mutters.

Minako scowls, “this isn’t a game, kid. We’re not counting kills-”   
“No,” Minami says almost forcefully. “I don’t mean  _ that _ . I don’t care about that. It’s not fair that they’re out for Katsuki-san’s head just because…” He makes an elaborate hand gesture that encompasses Yuuri and the room at large. 

“Yes,” Yuuko says. “But we don’t have the luxury to care about fairness.” She nods at Minako to continue.

“You’re right,” Minako sas to Yuuri, “that might complicate matters. Ryuichi isn’t vengeful but he will want to set an example.” Then she frowns. “We should figure it out and fast. Can we count on your support?” She looks at Yuuko - the current head of the Nishigori family.

“Yes,” she says firmly and without hesitation. Takeshi nods alongside her. “We’ve been waiting for an opportunity like that for a while.”

Minako’s lips quirks and there is a distant look in her eyes, sort of nostalgic but she doesn’t say anything.

“Oh my God,” Minami suddenly blurts, “I completely forgot.”

“What is it?” Yuuri asks warily.

“Izumi-san asked me to fetch Tsukasa-san for him, after…” he gestures awkwardly at Yuuri. “He said he had work for her.”

“Oh shit,” Minako curses. She jumps and darts to the kitchen counter where her phone lies. She hits a button and then presses the phone to her ear with what looks like too much force. “When was that?” she hisses at Minami.

“Uhhh, I don’t know. Right after Katsuki-san was knocked out. So… 20 hours ago?”

Minako curses and then abruptly cuts off. “Mari!” she almost shuts. “Are you alright?” They can’t hear the response, but Minako visibly relaxes. And then winces. “Yeah,” she says. “He’s here.” And then she hands the phone off to Yuuri.

“Yuuri,” his half-sister says and Yuuri is astounded to find her voice is shaking. “I’m so glad you’re alright.”

“Yeah,” he says and has to fight to keep his own voice even. “I’m sorry I worried you.”

Mari snorts. “You’ve always been a brat,” she says fondly. “I’ll let Mom and Dad know you’re fine. But they’re sleeping finally. I don’t want to wake them.”

“No, it’s fine,” Yuuri assures. He glances at Minako who gives him a sign in the code language she had taught him. “We’ll come by tomorrow.” He swallows. “Go get some rest.”

“Will do, little brother.” And with that Mari hangs up the phone.

“What was that?” Yuuko asks. “Is Tsukasa who I think she is?”

“Yes,” Minako said. “I thought he’d sent her after the Katsukis. But it doesn’t really make sense. But you’re right,” she says looking at Yuuri. “Yu-topia might be the first place Ryuichi comes looking. So is this place, I might add. And mine,” she grimaces.

“We have a hidden room in the cellar. The Izumis don’t know about it. You can stay there until morning. I’ll prepare something to eat in the meantime. Something small that won’t catch attention,” she adds after catching a glance from Minako. “In case they come poking their noses.”

“What about Tsukasa?” Takeshi asks. “Who’s she supposed to kill?”

“Well…” Minako says and then winces. “She’s been on an awful many visits in Russia recently. I didn’t really get the significance, but it makes sense.”

“Viktor,” Yuuri says. “Since I wouldn’t do it.” 20 hours. That’s enough to board a plane to Russia. He’s never met Tsukasa but from what he’s heard she’s excellent. And if it’s true that she’s been to Russia before, then she has Viktor already staked out. “I need to borrow someone’s phone, please.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Georgi to the rescue!  
> I've been in a bit of a slump recently and writing ideas come slowly. Chapter 4 is sorta halfway done, but I don't know if I'm happy with it. I have to actively force myself to sit my ass down to write, which is both no fun and also prone to, well, lazy writing. I hope to figure it out soon, but if updates are slower than nomally, this is the reason.  
> Until then, I hope you enjoy this chapter.  
> Let me know what you think.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, but I got sucked up into Dragon Age after I finally decided to play the second game and catch up on all the story I missed between Origins and Inquisition. So instead of writing I was gaming, whooops. But it's a fun game in a fun series, so try it if you have the time? I should also probably mention that once Mass Effect Andromeda comes out I might go MIA for a while. I am only a weak human after all and shiny games are my weakness, esp when writing is as frustrating as it is atm 

Viktor stares down at the phone in his hand. Relief is a powerful drug and he has to consciously keep the emotion from overwhelming him. Yuuri is alright. Injured, but alright. 

That’s really all that matters, except it isn’t.  Yuuri might be safe for now, but that doesn’t mean the danger has passed. That Ryuichi sent someone after Viktor, didn’t lose any time in doing so means he’s serious, And won’t stop just because he’s been thwarted once.

“What about Yura?” Mila asks. She sounds hesitant, an emotion that doesn’t suit her, but Viktor understands. Yuri and Mila are close, friends even and if he is as shaken as he is, it must be worse for her. 

“We’ll get him back,” he says. Viktor considers the dead assassin on the ground. Mila found some interesting gear on her, valuable tech that leaves little doubt as to just who had been sent after him,

Tsukasa Kaname is infamous, a mercenary who moonlights as an assassin, if the pay is right side of insanely high. Notorious for the speed and efficiency of her hits, Viktor has no illusions that the only reason he is still alive is Izumi Ryuichi’s decision to gloat in his face. And even then, it required Georgi’s unpredictable flair for drama to throw a wrench into Tsukasa’s plan.

She had infiltrated the building by scaling the outside - an impossible feat but the special hook gloves they found on her say otherwise. Still, to scale all fifty-six floors at night is a spectacular feat. She had entered the building one floor below his, unnoticed by the occupants who’d been still sleeping soundly in their beds when Mila went to check.

Viktor owns the entire building under the umbrella of one of his legitimate businesses, but under a fake name. Business conducted in the office floors is strictly legal to maintain the reputation of the building. The floors between the offices and the penthouse apartment are rented out to tenants who have no idea what sort of man lives above them. Yakov had always called it a security risk, to be this high with no way out, but Viktor had defended his decision by stating that if anyone ever gets this far, he deserves to die.

It’s fitting that this arrogance almost cost him his life tonight.

According to Mila, she had infiltrated the building some time during the meeting, when no guards were situated in front of the door. She had somehow broken through the security system without tripping an alarm and then reset the whole thing so that Viktor wouldn’t be suspicious when he came home later. And then she had simply waited, hidden away somewhere in the way too large space with too many hiding spots.

It’s chilling to think how close she had come. 

He prods the corpse with his foot, pushing until her face is revealed. Mila’s bullet had hit her in the back of the head. It had left a large hole in her forehead, gore still clinging to the jagged edges of bone. “Georgi,” he says. Georgi snaps to attention instantly. Mila’s words still ring in his mind,  _ you are lucky you told me to spare him. _ If he hadn’t, if he’d had done what the old Viktor would have done, Mila would have disposed of Georgi and he would have never raced to apologize to Viktor. Never dragged a trigger happy Mila after him who’d saved his life with one simple shot.

It’s almost laughable to think that his life had been spared not due to his skill or prowess, but by a whimsical gut decision he had made because he is so deeply in love with Yuuri.

“Get Nikolai,” he says. “Figure out how to prepare Tsukasa so that she looks alive and well. We need her for a bargain.”

Mila curses under her breath. Viktor doesn’t comment. He doesn’t begrudge her that she killed Tsukasa, but it would have been easier if she hadn’t. Easier to bargain with live bait. With Yuuri safe and Yuri nowhere to be found, it’s an easy guess as to where he is. Still, he should make sure, just in case.

Georgi nods and then saluts in a way so over the top, only he can pull it off and make it seem sincere.

Viktor waits until he’s left before settling into one of his arm chairs. He picks up his phone and dials Yuri’s phone. It rings four times before someone picks up.

“You failed,” Viktor says into the silence on the other end.

There is an audible exhale, a sigh almost and then Izumi Ryuichi says, “a shame.” He manages to sound unaffected, bored even. “That seems to be a trend with you Russians. Tsukasa?”

Viktor stares at the dead assassin, hole in her head an all. “Alive and well,” he lies, “for now. It entirely depends on Yuri Plisetsky’s well being.”

“Plisetsky?” Ryuichi says and for a moment Viktor thinks he’s playing coy, but then he continues, “so that is his name. He is surprisingly resilient.” The pause that follows is heavy with implications and Viktor has to dig his nails into the palm of his hand to keep his anger at bay. “You don’t waste any time,” Ryuichi observes idly.

“Why would I?” Viktor says, allows an edge of cold to creep into his voice. “You have something of mine, I have something of yours. Plisetsky has little value to you, he is not privy to sensitive information and I presume the same can be said for Tsukasa.”

Ryuichi makes a thoughtful noise. He is taking the whole thing entirely too well. It has Viktor on edge, the incessant nagging voice of  _ what does he know that I don’t that makes him so calm?,  _ always there, even if he knows as much as anyone that they’re all faking it anyway. “Intriguing argument. It is true that young Plisetsky has been rather tight-lipped, despite encouragement. He is most definitely stubborn. I expect Tsukasa has been similarly taciturn?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Viktor says flatly. “We haven’t gotten around to that part yet.”

“Ah, yes of course. Don’t bother trying. She knows very little and what she does know she’ll take to her grave.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Viktor says, “there are many ways to  _ dig _ out the truth. One of them might just be effective. It is worth a try, don’t you think? Of course, I would lay off, if I had your word to do the same for Plisetsky. He is a rather valuable bodyguard, it would be a shame if he could no longer work.”

“Of course,” Ryuichi allows. “There is just one thing.” He says it casually, almost in passing but the underlying tone has Viktor’s pulse speed up rapidly, if only he knows the edge intimately, has emploed it himself multiple times just as he was about to drive the knife home. The atmosphere in the room suddenly feel tense enough to clog up his airways.

“Why is it you have yet to ask me for proof that Plisetsky is still alive? On that note, what proof do you have that Tsukasa is?”   
There is pain in Viktor’s hand from where he has his nails dug into the flesh, but Viktor keeps every bit of emotion from his voice. “I trust my men. Plisetsky would not dare to die on me.” he says. It’s such a weak pathetic lie, but he can’t go demanding to speak to Yuri because there is no way he can follow up on the obvious response. Tsukasa will never be able to speak again. 

“That’s the thing,” Ryuichi says, “I trust my people too. And as it is, there is no way Tsukasa would allow herself to be caught alive.” The words hang there for a long, terrible moment. Ryuichi hasn’t hung up and that’s really the only hope Viktor has. There’s still hope, Ryuichi is gambling too, and if Viktor has learned one thing then it’s that true winners never bluff.

“That’s the thing,” Viktor mirrors, “humans have a way of failing the expectations put on their shoulders. Tsukasa is not the first to come after me. We know better to let them finish what the start.”

“Well, then put her on the phone, will you? I would like to reassure myself that my asset is intact. It’s all a matter of protecting my investment. You should understand.”

“I will,” he lies, “once she has woken up.” 

This was a mistake. He should not have called yet, he should have waited. At least until Georgi had returned with Nikolai. Until he’d had the time to figure out a plan, a course of action. Because until he’d revealed his survival to Ryuichi he’d had the advantage, but he’d wasted it. Because he’d been scared for Yuri’s sake and because he had been thrilled with his survival and Yuuri’s escape and he had wanted to rub it into Ryuichi’s face. Stupid. It’s a hard lesson to learn, that he is not infallible after all.

“Here is the thing, Mr. Nikiforov,” Ryuichi says and Viktor knows this tone as well. When you’re done playing, when all that’s left is to bury the body. “You disappoint me. I had expected more. But that is neither here nor there. As it is, I have something of yours that you either value very much or not at all. The fact that we are talking at all and you have so spectacularly failed to conceal your hand, I’d say the latter. Weakness, Mr. Nikiforov, never flatters anyone. You should be relieved however, to find that I have not forgotten how this business works. Do with Tsukasa what you will, it does not make a difference to me. For your sake I hope the next time we meet, you’ll remember how the game is played. Otherwise, it will be a very short meeting. Have a good evening, Mr Nikiforov.”

Viktor can only sit there stunned when Ryuichi hangs up a second time in about as many hours. He’s vaguely aware of Mila’s presence in the room, of the blood rushing in his own ears. He hurls the phone against the nearest wall with a force that has it shatter into countless pieces. 

Mila flinches, but doesn’t otherwise react.

Viktor stares at the wall, pieces of electronics still clinging to it. The rage he’d felt that had made him lash out has evaporated as fast as it had come. He just sealed Yuri’s fate, because he had been so fucking stupid. But he hadn’t thought, not really, not the way he should have. It’s made worse, because Viktor should have known better. He’s used to being better, effortlessly too, because this  _ game _ as Ryuichi calls it, was once as innate to him as breathing.

He hangs his head, too weary suddenly. His hands lie lax in his lap, an obvious manifestation of his helplessness. He can pinpoint every little mistake he’d made, every wrong step he’d taken just now. It’s so obvious and of course Ryuichi - who is so much better than anyone else he has faced in a long time - would see them too. 

“What happened?” Mila asks finally. She stands by the side console, Tsukasa’s belongings spread on it as if there was one final answer to give. She keeps her posture open, non-threatening but her face is hard and unyielding.

“I fucked up,” Viktor says dully. Failure is unfamiliar and he finds he does not know how to deal with it.

“No kidding,” Mila says. There’s scorn in her voice now and it startles Viktor enough so that he looks up at her. “The question is, what are we going to do to fix it?”

~*~

They leave the Nishigori residence in the hour right before dawn, when it’s still dark and even the latest night owls are likely asleep. Yuuri is still tired, the two hours of sleep he had gotten not nearly enough to combat his exhaustion and it doesn’t help that he’d spent nearly 15 hours knocked unconscious. The others only fare mildly better, but at least they are not weighed down by injuries.

Yuuko and Minami have gone ahead, driving Yuuko’s inconspicuous Honda on a circuitous route that will lead them through Hasetsu several times and will hopefully ditch any possible tails. Takeshi, Minako and Yuuri sneak out on foot, a slow and very careful affair. Minako scouts ahead, making sure the next part of the route is clear for Yuuri to follow and then Takeshi covers their backs, having his eyes out for tails and carefully removing any traces they might have left.

It means Yuuri has to wait in regular intervals until Minako signals the all clear, has to be alone with his thoughts and fears and all the possible ways this could go wrong. Viktor is safe, for now and that is a huge relief. But Yuri is another matter and it is difficult to accept that at this moment, there is little he can do. It’s his fault, but he’s in no physical state to  mount a rescue mission. It won’t take him long to heal up, but the thought of what could happen or what even might already have happened to Yuri is maddening.

It’s with a mixture of relief and apprehension that they eventually reach Yu-Topia - the hot spring resort that his birth mother owns with her husband and Yuuri’s adoptive father. They enter through the servant’s entrance and it’s there that Yuuri finds himself face to face with his sister, whom he hadn’t seen for over a year.

She doesn’t hesitate to pull him into a tight hug, tightening even as Yuuri winces at the strain on his injuries. And then there are his parents who rush to hug him too and it’s as though he’s never left, never chose Russia over Japan and for the first time in forever, Yuuri truly relaxes.

They convene over breakfast, a hastily assembled meal made from leftovers. The resort is closed, has been closed as Katsuki Toshiya confesses, ever since Izumi senior died. Ryuichi it seems, has yet to decide what to do with it and it’s never been as painfully obvious as now, just how bitter it is that the property belongs to the Izumi’s on paper. Hiroko’s father had built the resort, financed with generous loans from the Izumis and the silent understanding that they would be paid back in tithes. Hiroko and Toshiya had renovated the resort a few years back with their own money, but it had changed little of the circumstances. 

But, and this Toshiya tells Yuuri with a glint in his eyes, they’d added some extras with the renovations, extras that the Izumis are unaware of. Like the hidden rooms, the reinforced walls, the secret corridors between double walls leading to secret exits. 

Yu-topia has become a veritable fortress.

“Your father was the reason,” Hiroko confesses at some point. The expression in her eyes is hard and unyielding. She’s never told Yuuri how she came to be with his father, when she already had Mari with Toshiya, but he’d guessed enough. “He takes what he wants, so we decided to make it as hard as possible for him.”

“The property might belong to the Izumis on paper,” Mari adds, “but we have lived here all our lives. Yu-topia is what it is, because of us. We will protect it and our family, with all we have,” she says and looks at Yuuri as she does.

“It’s a good thing then,” Minako says with a grim smile, “that we came prepared for war.”

~*~

There is no problem that can’t be solved, one way or another. So when the answer doesn’t come to him by itself, Viktor calls Yuuri. He lays down what happened, apologizing for his rash and foolish behavior.

“You are only human,” Yuuri says and the words shouldn’t have the impact that they have. But no one’s ever acknowledged the fact that Viktor is as fallible as everyone else. Not even himself.

He doesn’t cry, there is no time for that, but he recognizes the urge to. Pressure, he discovers, is so much different when it’s not just his life on the line. But caring isn’t a weakness, he reminds himself and then Yuuri does the same, simply by asking him if he’s all right when there is nothing in his voice that should have given it away. And all of a sudden Viktor can breathe again, because he might have fucked up, but he’s not alone, doesn’t have to pick up the pieces by himself.

“He won’t kill Yurio,” Yuuri says. “He might play it off, but he fears you. Tsukasa-san is… she does not come cheap. If he had her investigating you for months, that means he wanted you out of the way for sure. He still does.”

“He would have succeeded too,” Viktor confesses. “But it is odd. Your father has been dead for less than two weeks, This plan has been in the making for much longer. I’d never pegged old Izumi as someone who’d send assassins behind my back.”

“He would though, Probably. But I think, he didn’t know about this. I don’t know for sure, these details were kept from me, but he might have been sick for a while. It didn’t seem like his death was much of a shock.”

“Do you think Ryuichi had something to do with it?” It would not be unheard of.

Yuuri sighs. “I don’t know. It’s possible, but I honestly can’t tell. I used to think that Ryuichi valued family, but he did order me killed. But then again I wasn’t quite considered a real part of the family.”

“It doesn’t really matter, I suppose.” Viktor muses. “He’s dead either way. As for your brother, he’s the kind of person to have contingency plans. He failed this time, he won’t stop now.”

There is a moment of silence, Yuuri turning over thoughts in his head. That’s another thing Viktor likes about Yuuri. He’s never rash in his decisions, never strikes before not considering all possible angles. And yet, if driven into a corner, Yuuri can be as rapidly dangerous as a cobra.

“I don’t know my brother that well,” Yuuri says, “but I believe that I may have forced his hand inadvertently. Minami tells me he summoned Tsukasa-san after he had given the order to kill me. I don’t know when he had planned to send her originally. It might have been always his plan to make me do it.”

“That gives us time,” Viktor says. “For now. But he knows I am his enemy now. He will come after me. Or make me come to him.”

Yuuri makes a thoughtful noise. He’s thinking again. “It might have been for the best,” he says eventually, “that you gave away how much you care for Yurio.”

“I’m not so sure about that. I could have gotten him free, if I’d kept it together.”

“Maybe,” Yuuri allows, “but if I read my brother correctly, then Tsukasa-san lost her worth for him the moment she got captured. I doubt he would have agreed to an exchange. She’s cost him enough mone to hire, he won’t spend anymore than he has to. He’s not… sentimental like that.”

“Are you calling me sentimental?” Viktor asks, teasing now. And this, he needs too. The ease he has in talking with Yuuri, where it doesn’t matter what image he projects or that he doesn’t hold the answer to anything. 

“Aren’t you?” Yuuri asks softly.

Viktor huffs a laugh. “Only with you. But it’s a good thing I think. You make me want to be better.”

“It’s easier to fight if you’re fighting for something,” Yuuri muses. He sounds thoughtful, as if this is a realization he’s just come to himself. 

Viktor smiles. “We will get him back,” he says. 

“I know,” Yuuri responds.

There is a moment of peaceful silence, but soon the urgency of the situation comes back to Viktor. “Yuuri,” he says, “I know how you feel about your father. But what about your brother? We might have to kill him.”

“Viktor,” Yuuri says and there is a note of chiding in his voice, “you should really know better than that.”

Viktor exhales, “I had to ask.”

“He came after you,” Yuuri says softly. And that’s really all he needs to say. Viktor has no blood relatives he knows of. The point is lost on him, but he understands the depth of this thing between them. He can’t think of a single person he wouldn’t kill if they ever dared to raise a hand to Yuuri. Izumi Ryuichi can be glad that there is distance between them now, but it won’t last long.

“Good,” he says out loud. “I might have a plan.”

~*~

“Viktor is coming to Japan,” Yuuri announces to Minako, Mari, Yuuko and Takeshi later that day. They’re all squeezed into the secondary office that Toshiya and Hiroko use for any business that is not strictly legal. It’s not a small space, but with five people it is definitely cramped. The office is an old study in one of the few areas nearly untouched by renovations, as it is located in one of the small external buildings that dot the property. From the outside it looks unused, merely a tribute to nostalgia, but the inside is fully functional.

Minami is on guard duty, watching all access routes for potential unwanted visitors and Yuuri’s parents had begun to set up defenses.

“Is that wise?” Yuuko asks with a skeptical frown, “he’s on Ryuichi’s hit list.”

Yuuri follows one of the deep lines that have been etched into the desk’s surface by time and boredom with his fingers. He’s conflicted about this. On the one hand, being separated from Viktor is surprisingly hard and he wants nothing else than to be reunited with him. On the other hand, his brother is not known to relent and coming to his territory will do little to discourage him.

“He’s not coming alone,”

“Is  _ that _ wise?” Takeshi taps his fingers impatiently against the rim of the desk. “Bringing in the cavalry? We have the local police bribed, but they won’t look away if we start an all-out war.”

Yuuri sighs. His nail catches on a piece of wood and he winces as it bites into his skin. He drops his palms into his lap, but he can’t quite keep them still. “I don’t know,” he confesses. “Numbers could be advantageous.”

“Well, regardless of how many he brings, they’ll have a hard time blending in,” Minako says. “There’re not many foreigners to go around. Tourist season hasn’t yet started.”

“If Ryuichi has any inkling that he’s coming, he’ll set up a trap for Viktor to walk right into,” Mari points out.

“He must have a plan;” Minako says, eyeing Yuuri expectantly. 

Yuuri nods. “Right now, we have a disadvantage in numbers. There is a chance that any place I might go to is under surveillance. I am fairly sure Yu-topia is under some form of it at least. They’re likely watching who’s coming and going. Which means that there is little we can do that won’t catch attention.”

Minako whistles through her teeth. “Smart,” she says. 

Takeshi frowns at her and then looks at Yuuko who only shrugs.

“Too bad it’s the enemy being smart,” Mari grouses. She’s fiddling with her lighter, a sure sign that she’s craving nicotine.

“That’s the smart part. We can exploit that,” Minako says with a shrug.

Yuuri nods again. “They’re going to come in disguised as tourists on a roundtrip through Kyushu. Fake passports and all. With Ryuichi unaware of their presence, we’re gonna stage a diversion. Maybe act as though we plan to move out. And while they are distracted with us, Viktor’s group goes in and rescues Yurio.”  _ And kills Ryuichi _ , he adds silently. It’s as he’s told Viktor, it doesn’t matter that they’re family, Ryuichi went after Viktor and with that his fate is sealed.

“That sounds like it could actually work,” Takeshi concedes. 

“It’s a long shot,” Minako cautions. “Good plan, but there are a lot of if’s. And Ryuichi is many things but stupid is not one of them. There’s a good chance he’ll figure out something’s up.”

Yuuri exhales slowly, “if there’s another way…”

“...We’d take it,” Minako finishes. “I’m not saying we shouldn’t do it. Just that it’s gonna be tricky.”

“How do we coordinate?” Mari asks. “By phone?”

“We shouldn’t meet up before, I guess,” Yuuko adds. “Too risky.” She taps her fingers together thoughtfully. “I’ll get word out to our folks. There’s not a lot of them left who are loyal, and they’re mostly spread out on their jobs. But I can get a few of them to come in as back up.”

“They’re going to come in as tourists,” Minako says, “won’t that be a problem?”

“What do you mean?” Yuuri asks.

“Weapons,” she says,” you can’t bribe your way past customs and hope Ryuichi won’t hear about it. He’s- a shit.”

“What?”

“Okay, listen. I know your father was a laissez-faire kind of guy when it came to international dealings, but Ryuichi’s a paranoid bastard if I’ve ever seen one. Anyone touches home on Kyushu soil he’s gonna want to know about them. He’s set up this guy at Fukuoka airport who keeps an eye out on passenger lists. He most definitely has people watching Hasetsu station. Chance is, Viktor lands at Fukuoka, Ryuichi is gonna know about it. Viktor stands out. A lot.”

“He could wear a disguise,” Yuuko offers.

“Yeah, that’s a given. But Ryuichi has his people on high alert. Anyone coming in from Russia or surrounding countries is going to get double checked.”

“You’re right,” Yuuri says grimly. “We need to reroute.”   
“What if they don’t land in Fukuoka?,” Takeshi asks. “That’s the shortest and most obvious route, but not the only one. They could fly to another airport, Tokyo or something and then take a flight from there to Saga. It’s closer and they could get a car from there and make the drive themselves. Does he have a guy at Saga?”

Minako shrugs, “Not as far as I know. Domestic flights are usually of little interest.”

“It’s not ideal,” Mari says. 

“But it’s the best bet we have,” Yuuri says. “I’ll call him.”

~*~

Touching ground on Japanese soil always comes with its own special flavor of homecoming. For the longest time, coming to Japan meant coming close to the one thing in his life he valued above everything.

This time, it’s different, even as he recognizes that fluttery feeling in his chest, the one that always springs up when he’s returned to Yuuri after a long time. And yet, it is so unmistakably different. 

For once he’s not wearing an expensive suit with guns holstered to his sides. There are no weapons on him other than his charm and devastatingly handsome looks and even those have taken a hit by the dye job Georgi insisted on giving his hair. He’s brunet now and no matter how often Georgi insists it’s harmless, Viktor can’t stop imagining the itch on his scalp from the dye.

It’s a different viewpoint. He’s not here on  _ business, _ but for recreation and there is an entirely new feeling that comes tagging along. He would like to go on vacation with Yuuri one day, he thinks. Once this all is over, once he’s put Ryuichi into his grave.

“The car rental is down there,” Mila says, all excited tourist, clinging to Viktor’s arm like the couple they pretend to be. Georgi’s sulking, or pretending to, it’s hard to tell but it’s his role at least, the guy whose girlfriend dumped him a day before their vacation but whose friends dragged him along anyway. 

It’s a good disguise and Viktor allows Mila’s enthusiasm to infect him, letting her drag him towards where a large sign advertises car rentals.

They make a show of picking a car and duration, having discussions about visiting places Viktor’s never heard of, but that are apparently ‘must-sees’, and ‘you promised me, Vanya.’

Their fake itinerary only intersects with their plotted route at one point - where they’re dropping off the rental car in favor of a stolen car or something equally illegal. They’d debated a long time about the best approach, a rented car requires a credit card, but stealing a car right at the airport doesn’t mesh well with their tourist guise.

Viktor smiles indulgently at Mila as she rambles off what she wants to see, while simultaneously scanning the surroundings for any sign of danger. The rental agent smiles at them and hands Viktor back his fake credit card, the transaction going off without a hitch.

She hands the keys over to Mila who snatches them up excitedly, bouncing on her heels as though this was truly a trip she had been looking forward to. Georgi checks his phone and sighs mournfully, this time the theatrics are obvious - unlike Viktor, he has no coverage in Japan - until Viktor plucks the device out of his hands and says cheerfully, “forget Anya. She doesn’t know what she’s missing.” And with that they're off towards the rental parking lot, suitcases trailing behind.

The lot is deserted, save for the assembly of cars, all with the same logo on their chassis. Viktor’s never rented a car at an airport before, it’s new and exciting in a way, and he doesn’t think to check if this is normal, if the parking lot is supposed to be this empty. 

The car is small, modern in its hybridism, but cramped for someone who’s used to being chauffeured in luxus limousines. They’re still pretending, so Viktor gets behind the wheel with Mila next to him and Georgi in the backseat.

Mila drums her fingers on the handhold on her door, suspiciously eyeing their surroundings. Georgi scans the lot behind them, both of them tense and primed for any eventuality.

Viktor programs the navi on his new phone, ignoring the one that comes with the car. He’d like to think he can find his way to Yuuri blindly, but for the time being, modern technology has to substitute.

So far all has gone off without a hitch and that should have been a warning to Viktor. But he’s distracted by the glare of the sun outside, spring so obviously in the air, distracted by the joy of the play they’re enacting, by the illusion of normalcy and the stunned realization that he  _ craves _ this in a way he didn’t expect.

He wants to go on trips with Yuuri, maybe rent a convertible so they can drive with the roof down and the wind in their hair, wants all the dumb, domestic stuff couples get up to that he’d always considered boring.

Viktor doesn’t see the black van coming their way until it’s too late.

Mila screams something in his ear, but her voice blurs into the screech of tires and then the horrible lurch and impact of the van crashing into the side of their small car. The side Viktor and Georgi are on, and there is only a moment of blind, awful panic before the pain overtakes Viktor and his world is swallowed by the bloating mass of airbag in front of him.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because I can't say this enough, thanks to everyone who reads this, comments on this or leaves kudos on this. I'm extremely busy atm (just got an introduction into working with radioactivity and since halflife is a bitch, I kind of have to cram a lot of experiments into a short amount of time). Also, ME Andromeda is coming out tomorrow in my corner of the world so, I'll be busy and distracted? And some other stuff is happening and I kinda want to sleep for a week too, so maybe I won't feel tired all the time.   
> I'll try and keep updates up in a more or less regular manner, but I'd rather not promise anything. But I'll definitely finish this thing, although I can't yet say how much more chapter we have left.  
> Anyway, have fun reading :D

Yuuri stares at the phone in his hand, but he still can’t make it ring. He has checked the airport homepage multiple times, but the flight Viktor was supposed to take was not delayed. They should have already been halfway to Hasetsu by now, but there is yet a sign of them.

He tries not to worry, they did not discuss a fixed time for reconvening, but Yuuri would have expected Viktor to call as soon as they land or at least once they're safely away from the airport.

But nothing.

“Could something have happened?” Minami asks tentatively. It’s a foolish thing to ask and Yuuri has to force himself not to snap at him. It’s not Minami’s fault, but every minute without a sign of life frazzles Yuuri’s nerves a little more.

He knows he shouldn’t, but he can’t help going through all the possible scenarios of what could have gone wrong. It’s a feeling he’s all too familiar with, one he hadn’t quite had in a while but that has not lost any of its debilitating force. Anxiety. Only this time it’s mixed with the very real fear of losing Viktor.

It’s a feeling he’s used to combat with physical activity, ice skating usually, or when that’s unavailable some physical training or sparring. But either is out of the question at the moment. Most of his wounds are superficial, but some of the cuts are worryingly deep. The cut on his hand specifically has swollen to a painful red. Likely on its way to infection, according to Yuuko and he had been advised to keep it particularly clean after she had washed it out with alcohol and redone the stitches. At least the stiffness had receded and he can move his thumb normally again, if he ignores the pain that causes.

He might be able to hold his own in a fight if he has to, but Yuuko’s strictly forbidden him any form of physical exertion until at least the stitches can be pulled out. It’s maddening and leaves him with little else to do than to ponder what could have gone wrong.

The sudden ringing of his phone startles him badly enough, he almost drops it. It’s an unknown number, mobile, but Yuuri only hesitates a moment before he picks up.

“Yes?” He says.

There is silence at the other end, just silence but then there’s an audible ragged exhale and Viktor’s voice says, “Yuuri.”

Something’s wrong and Yuuri’s voice is more than a little panicked, when he replies,. “Viktor?” 

“I’m sorry,” Viktor says and he sounds tired. There’s a rasp to his voice, like exhaustion dragging at him. “We screwed up,”

There is a voice in the background, it sounds a bit like Mila, but Yuuri doesn’t understand what she’s saying.

Viktor laughs. It’s a dry, rough sound that seems like it’s dragged out by force. “Only god damned Russians speaking English,” he mutters,

“Viktor,” Yuuri urges.”What’s wrong?  _ Where are you? _ ”

There’s breathing, labored and then Viktor sighs. “It’s better if you don’t know. We’ve- They knew we were coming. Yuuri, they were prepared for us.”

There is something in his voice, an urgency that Yuuri doesn’t understand at first until he focuses on what Viktor actually said. “They couldn’t have known,” he says anyway, because it’s easier than to have to consider the implications.

“Georgi’s dying,” Viktor says flatly and the accusation in his voice  _ stings _ .

“I’m sorry,” is all Yuuri can say to that.

“No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to- It’s just-” There is a pause and some rustling and then, “They crashed into our car. Mila and I had airbags, but Georgi… He’s dying and I don’t know what to do. They knew we were coming.”

There was a chance that Ryuichi anticipated their arrival, even a chance he’d guessed they would land in Miyazaki, but he’d never been able to tell when or from where. The only people who knew were also people Yuuri trusted. “A traitor?” he asks, because he has to.

“I don’t know,” Viktor responds tiredly. “They knew- They must have known when we would arrive. But I think they expected us to come to Saga, not Miyazaki. There were only three of them there and they… I don’t think they had a fixed plan in place. It seemed rushed. Like they needed to stop us at all cost, but hadn’t the manpower to do so.”

Yuuri’s stomach coils with dread but he forces the feeling down. He’d gone and called Viktor after talking to the others, to tell him of the change of plans. Viktor had looked up flights and found none that connected to Saga that worked for them. So he had picked Miyazaki instead. Yuuri hadn’t thought to tell anyone, because it didn’t make much of a difference.

But there were only four people who were still under the impression the plan was unchanged. Only five people who could have passed that false information on. Yuuri doesn’t like where that logic leads. “If there is a traitor, we need to flush them out,” Yuuri says. “There’s only a few people who knew enough to tell my brother to look at Saga. He wouldn’t trust them, so he’d likely station extra people at Fukuoka and a few just in case at Miyazaki. We can work with that. Leak false information to-”   
“Yuuri,” Viktor says and it hits home all of a sudden just how exhausted he sounds. “We don’t have time for that. Georgi doesn’t have the time. Yuri doesn’t have the time. I don’t-” he cuts off and swallows thickly. “I trust you. I know you’d never betray me. But if there’s a traitor and- We don’t have the  _ time _ .”

Yuuri closes his eyes for a moment. Trust has never come easy to him, always carrying doubt on its heel. It’s even harder to accept someone could trust him,  _ him -  _ bastard son of a yakuza whose only use is as a tool to be used and discarded. Having Viktor say it feels so monumental very little in his life ever has.  “Are you... “

“I’m fine,” Viktor says. “Just a few scratches and bruises. The airbag- I got lucky. Mila has a dislocated shoulder and a nasty black eye. But we’ll make it. Georgi…” Viktor curses viciously, first in Russian and then in English. 

“ _ Solnyshko _ ,” Yuuri says gently when he’s done. It’s all he can do to pretend to be calm when Viktor is so clearly in need of it.

Viktor sucks in a breath that sounds suspiciously wet. But his voice doesn’t give the tears away, if there are any. “I’m not used to not knowing what to do,” he confesses. “This should be easy. Take Mila and abandon Georgi, but how can I do that? He saved my life.”

“We’ll find a solution,” Yuuri says firmly. “Just-”  _ stay put _ is what he wants to say, but he swallows the words at the last moment. “Focus on your main problem right now. Get Georgi to a doctor, a hospital if you must. Get him the help he needs. You’ll regret it, if you don’t. Focus on that and I will figure out who betrayed us. If Ryuichi hasn’t killed Yuri yet,” and they can only hope that he hasn’t, “he won’t do so now. It’s more likely he’ll use him to lure us into another trap.”

“You make it sound so easy,” Viktor says and he sounds almost awed. “I couldn’t bring myself to make a decision. I was… scared of the consequences.”

Yuuri stares down at his hand. At the clean bandage wrapped around the cut on his palm. It still hurts, but it feels different, not as inflamed as it used to be. “It is easy,” he says, “You are my family, just as much as the people here are my family. Losing either of you is out of the question. It’s not worth it.”

Viktor sucks in a breath and then exhales it slowly. “Thank you, Yuuri. I don’t know what I would do without you. I’d never thought…” he trails off. “I’m just so grateful that I have you. It was all worth it, even the moments when I thought I’d never get this chance with you. I want you to know that, Yuuri. I don’t regret anything. Even if....” He doesn’t finish, but he doesn’t really need to.

Yuuri can feel the tears trailing down his cheeks. He hadn’t realized he’d started crying. “My only regret,” he says, “is that I waited so long to take this chance. You are the best thing that ever happened to me, Viktor Nikiforov. And I promise you, I will find a way for us and I will never again let you fight by yourself.”

~*~

_ It’s not worth it _ .

Viktor stares at Georgi’s curled up form. He’s feverish, slipping in and out of consciousness, but even when he’s conscious, he’s not really  _ conscious _ .

Viktor doesn’t know what happened exactly. He remembers the crash, the horrible crunching sound of impact and the  lurch when he was thrown forward. He remembers pain and the bulging mass of airbag right in front of him. He has lacerations on his skin from where the seatbelt cut into it and several bruises and cuts from shattered glass. 

He’d lost consciousness for a moment, only a few seconds and then there had been men dragging him out of the wrecked car.

He’d been disoriented, still reeling from the impact, but he’d known this, had know how to react to a threat. They hadn’t expected him to fight back, the way they handled him they thought him unconscious still. He wrestled the gun out of the hand of one of them and shot him, or tried to, but moving, even trying to stand had sent waves of dizziness through him and he’d only managed a grazing shot. Then Mila had kicked the legs out from under the second one and stomped the heel of her shoe into his face. 

By then Viktor’s dizziness had passed and he had shot the third man, and then the first again in the knee caps this time, only so they could ask him the most important question,  _ how did you find us,  _

_ Only damn Russians speaking English, _ the man had said, through pain and gritted teeth, spitting the words at Viktor’s feet. It had made sense too. English isn’t compulsory in the Russian school system. Many of his countrymen do not speak a word. 

_ That doesn’t answer my question _ , he had said. Not the one that mattered at least.

The man had grinned.  _ Didn’t expect you coming to Miyazaki. Too bad it’s not gonna help you.  _ Viktor had shot him in the head. They’d lost too much time and it was unlikely the man knew more than he’d said. And Viktor had already gleaned enough to know they were in deep trouble.

He’d run through their plans in his head, adjusting them, thinking they were fine, this was only a small setback. He had been wrong. Viktor had never seen Mila this scared. She’d been pale, shocked as she was and her arm had hung limply as though broken. But it was the way she looked at the interior of the car that had sent chills down Viktor spine.

The van had hit their car near the rear. The front door had opened more or less effortlessly, although the frame was bent, but the back of the car was completely caved in. Georgi had lain inside, unconscious and covered in blood. How he was still alive, was beyond Viktor’s comprehension.

A sound startles him from his memories. Mila puts down a plastic bottle of water in front of him. She doesn’t say anything, but the expression on her face is tired. They’d set her arm after they found the hideout, an abandoned office building not far enough from the airport to be comfortable but as far as they can manage, but it must still hurt. She’d gone out to get them some supplies, ill-advised maybe, but they’d needed them. Only, looking at the first aid kit she’d snatched, Viktor had realized that there is nothing they can do for Georgi. Outwards, he seems fine. The blood is mostly from shallow cus and lacerations. But he’s not fine at all. Mila suspects internal bleeding and there is something horribly wrong with his stomach. It’s too hard, like it’s filled with something solid and not the squishy organs that’re supposed to be there. They’ve done what they can but it’s not enough.

_ It’s not worth it _ .

“What is the address of this building?”

Mila stares at him for a long moment. He thinks she will argue, but then she lowers her eyes and tells him. He’s not surprised that she figured out their location while out. It’s what he would have done.

He puts a call through to 119, using what little Japanese he picked up over the years to relay their position and the gist of the problem. Then he hangs up.

He puts the phone in his pocket. His own hadn’t survived the crash, so Mila had gotten him a new one along with her card, taking a prepaid card for herself. He stands and pulls the gun he took from the attackers from his belt. He holds it out to Mila. “You need to get to-”

“No,” she says, before he can even finish.

Viktor is surprised enough to show it on his face. “Mila, we don’t have time for this,” he urges. “Someone needs to help Yuuri.”

“Yes,” she glares at him. “I have a dislocated shoulder. I won’t be of any help one way or another. I might as well get treated in a real hospital while looking out for Georgi.”

Viktor feels like he should argue more, but he knows she’s right. Has known it even before she said it, but he doesn’t feel he has the right to make this decision. It’s his fault they’re here and that Georgi is dying. The least he can do is take the fall for it.

“Stop being so considerate,” Mila says. “It’s nice when we’re at home, but right now you have to focus on what’s important. They’re after you. If they follow you, they can’t come after us. And even then, they won’t expect us to go to a hospital, and even if they do it’s a  _ hospital _ . Full of people. We’re far away from their turf, Viktor you know how these things go. Start shit in a hospital and you have a special strike force on your ass before you can… I don’t know, I’m in too much pain to be witty right now.”

Viktor exhales. “Are you saying I am to be your decoy?”

Mila huffs, “yes that’s exactly what I am saying.” Her expression sobers then, “I’m injured and Georgi’s incapacitated. Even if I stayed with you, there’s little I could do.” She shrugs awkwardly with one shoulder. “I’d be a hindrance to you.”

“You could throw yourself in front of a bullet,” Viktor suggests. Mila doesn’t laugh at the joke, and at the expression in her eyes, Viktor regrets making it. “I would never ask that of you,” he adds softly.

“You should,” she says, “you’re the most important.”

“Yeah, but you can’t have a brotherhood without brothers.”

Mila smiles tiredly. She goes to throw the scattered contents of the first aid kit back into the box. “I used to respect you for your skill. I might have even looked up to you. Georgi too. You were this larger than life, unreachable ideal we all had but knew could never achieve.”

“And now?” Viktor picks up the plastic bag she brought from her excursion and holds it open for her to dump their meagre belongings into.

“Now I respect you for your skill and your character. Yuri’s a lost cause. I ought to tell you not to bother. But I am glad that you do. He’s my brother too.”

Viktor smiles tightly. “I’ll see you two on the other side,” he says in parting. She nods at him, understanding that this is both a promise and an order. 

~*~

If Yuuri had learned one thing in his life it’s that jumping to conclusions is dangerous. So he runs all the information he has through one more time, but the answer he comes up is still the same. There is a leak somewhere.

Only six people knew of the plan, eight if he counts Mila and Georgi. Of those, only Viktor’s people and Yuuri had known that they were going to land at Miyazaki instead of Saga. Which reduced the number of potential suspects to four. He hadn’t told his parents or Minami more than that Viktor was coming in by car, but it was possible that one of the others had told them, although unlikely. But other than that, there was no one who could have known.

Yuuri clenches his fists, ignoring the pain spiking in the right one.

Could someone have eavesdropped? But there had been no one else there. No one could have snuck onto the property unnoticed. It must have been someone present.

But which one of them would betray him?

No one, that’s who would.

But the facts say differently.

For the first time in years, Yuuri goes to seek out the one person who could always be counted on to set his head straight. He goes to see his mother. 

Katsuki Hiroko is in the kitchen, stirring something in a pot. There is a handgun on the kitchen counter next to the food processor, but other than that this could be a perfectly ordinary, domestic scene.

“Yuuri,” she says with a smile. “There are some cold cuts in the fridge, if you want a snack. If you wait a bit, I’m making soup.”

Yuuri feels heavy as he sits down and watches his mother bustle around. This is the part of his childhood he remembers the fondest. The domestic nature of running a hot spring resort as a family, the spaces in between where he wasn’t a discarded son of a yakuza boss, but the son of his mother who loved him without question.

“There might be a traitor among us,” he says because there really is no use in sugar coating it. 

Hiroko looks at him sharply and for a moment it is obvious why his father strayed for a chubby little woman of no social standing to speak of. His mother’s eyes are sharp with intelligence and an almost cold calculating light that belies the warmth she is capable of. “What makes you say that?” She asks, hands still stirring but her entire body language has shifted to one of acute awareness.

Yuuri explains what happened.

“Is that what you think,” she asks once he’s done, “that there is a traitor in our midst?”

Yuuri stares down at his hands. Doubts are always his worst enemies. They’re the worst though. when they’re about himself and he almost never wins that fight. But this isn’t about him. He knows it’s not him.

“No,” he says slowly, looking up from his hands. “But I’m having difficulties separating my bias from the logical facts. Regardless of their stance on Viktor and I, I do not believe any of the people present would betray us. Part of it is because I don’t want it to be true, but I don’t know if that is influencing my assessment.”

Hiroko leans back against the counter. She’s still alert, but no longer as tense. Yuuri takes it as a good sign.

He had spent so much time away, so much time doing his father’s dirty work that he’d forgotten what it felt like to be home. To be surrounded by the people who’ve become his first real family. He shouldn’t have, but he did.

“There is no traitor, is there?” he asks, feeling- not quite foolish, but unsure at least.

Hiroko tilts her head. “You can never exclude that. A traitor doesn’t betray you, after presenting you with a perfectly good reason why they would do it. It’s always going to catch you by surprise, by the people you would have least expected it from. So yes, your bias is coloring your assessment. Your mistake is looking for a motif. Minako, for example, is a good actor. If she had a reason to betray you, you’d never see it coming. But if she betrayed you, you would already be dead.” With that she turns back to the miso soup.

Yuuri doesn’t respond immediately. He’d thought in a similar vein. If they had a traitor in their midst, why didn’t they alert Ryuichi to their whereabouts?  _ No _ , he thinks,  _ Ryuichi knows where I am. It’s the only logical place for me to be _ . The question is, why aren’t the gates yet opened to the enemy?

“Could they be listening into our conversation? In general? Tap in our phone… no that doesn’t make sense. I talked to Viktor about our change of plans and they didn’t know that. It must be something else. A bug? But how would that be possible?”

Hiroko stills suddenly. “Oh my,” she says. “Did you by any chance have that meeting in the old study?”

“Yes,” Yuuri says warily.

Hiroko blows out air between her lips, a pinched expression on her face. Yuuri has always known his mother as a soft spoken person, even in the most stressful moments. The steel shone through sometimes, but it showed never showed in more than her tone. She could be overbearing sometimes, but he had never ever heard her cursing. “Toshiya, that idiot,” she says emphatically.

Yuuri doesn’t bother hiding his confusion.

She sighs, weary suddenly. “We hosted a business meeting a while back,” she starts, “for Izumi-san.” There is no change of expression when she speaks of her former lover, their relationship being strictly professional despite their son. “I say business meeting, but I suppose the primary goal of that meeting was to arrange a marriage for Ryuichi-san.” She wrinkles her nose, but doesn’t elaborate further. Yuuri knows she doesn’t buy into the idea of arranging marriages, having spurned her own arranged fiance in favor of Toshiya. 

“The point is,” she continues, “Izumi-san asked us to prepare the old study for a meeting, after the banquet and sake was done. His men occupied the room before the meeting started and I told Toshiya afterwards to sweep it to make sure they didn’t leave anything behind.” She pinches her lips. “I am not saying I suspect Izumi-san might have used the chance to leave whatever he had installed to eavesdrop on us, but that is exactly what I am saying.”

It makes sense, Yuuri thinks. They discussed their plans in the study, but when he went to call Viktor, he left. If there is a bug there, it would have caught one thing and not the other. “That explains why no one has tried to oust us yet,” he says. “It’s better to have an ear inside until they apprehend Viktor. Is there a possibility they bugged anywhere else?”

Hiroko thinks for a moment. “The banquet room and some of the public space possibly,” she concludes after a while. “We conduct most business in that study. Up until recently it was all in line with the wishes of the main family, so I doubt Izumi-san had reason to complain. Now however… We should sweep the whole property just to be sure. Until then, only talk about business in rooms that have been checked through.”

“We shouldn’t touch the bug in the study, for now,” Yuuri says. “Find it but leave it where it is. Maybe have a fight about who is our traitor in the room.” Ryuichi would grow suspicious if they didn’t react at all to their plan being thwarted. “And then lay a few false trails.”

Hiroko smiles at him, beaming pleased mother and viciously proud all in one.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry y'all for the delay. I hit a major snag and then ended up scrapping most of the chapter and rewriting it from scratch. Which took some time. Don't know when the next update will be ready, but I can see the finish line so it shouldn't be too many more chapters. Is that good or bad? Idk.  
> Anyway, happy easter to the bunnies who care and happy weekend to those who don't.

Viktor leaves before the ambulance arrives. It kills a part of him to do so. He knows there is a good chance he won’t see either of them again, but Mila is right. There’s no use in them all getting caught up in a trap. He’ll serve them better if he quickly wraps this up and makes it  _ safe _ for all of them.

In these terms at least, the matter is a simple one.

Viktor squats in a small home, whose occupants are on vacation, until nightfall. Then he steals a car and starts on the long drive towards Hasetsu. There’s no news from Mila, but he refuses to let the worry drag him down. They agreed on no contact for the time being, if Mila doesn’t know where he is or how to reach him, she can’t give up his position. Viktor hates this, the way he’s never hated it before. It’s necessary and logical and for that alone, Viktor resents it.

He reaches Hasetsu in the middle of the night, after midnight but long before the sun rises over the horizon. Viktor longs to finish the drive at Yu-topia, to reunite with Yuuri, but the place is most likely watched. He doesn’t want to spring a trap and endanger his lover and his family.

So instead, Viktor pulls into the deserted parking lot behind a now dark eatery. He reaches for his phone until he remembers the time. Yuuri will be asleep and Viktor, as much as he wants to talk to him, is loathe to deny him rest.

But there is another call he can make, to another time zone where it is not as late as it is here. Nikolai Kariyeva picks up after the third ring. “Boss,” he says without notable inflection. It’s not surprising that Nikolai has figured out the number is him. He is uncanny like that.

“I need a satellite feed of Hasetsu, Japan,” Viktor says without preamble. Nikolai grunts and then there is the clack of keys. “Real time,” he adds.

Nikolai grunts again, and for a while the clacking of keys is the only thing breaking the silence. Viktor has turned off the lights in his car and slowly his eyes grow used to the darkness. There’s no one nearby, but Viktor feels the edges of tension in his bones. He’s on enemy territory and for all the mistakes he has made today, this is still something that’s ingrained into his soul.

It is just another hunt, another sack of human flesh and bones that is awaiting slaughter by his hand. He knows this and it’s surprising in a way to find that the suit - the mask - he hasn’t worn for so long slips on with ease.

“Gotcha, boss,” Nikolai says. “Can’t send it to your phone though. Shitty model.” 

“I only need a status report for now.” Viktor relays the address of the Izumi compound. 

“It’s dark,” Nikolai says. 

Not surprising. “The sun here rises in-” he checks his watch and calculates, “three hours and around 40 minutes. I want constant surveillance on the compound. Get Pyotr and Aleksander to help you. Take shifts. I want to be informed of any significant change, large amounts of people coming and going, stuff like that. And keep an eye on Yuri if you can. Tell me whenever something of note happens, no matter the hour.

There’s a long silence, typical for any dealings with Nikolai. He doesn’t like to talk and only says what’s necessary. “All right,” he says eventually. His voice is still mostly bland, but carries just the tiniest hint of agitation. It’s as much of a complaint Viktor will ever hear. What he asked for might have been extremely difficult and hard to pull off, but unless Nikolai isn’t absolutely convinced he can’t do it, he won’t say it. He’ll make it work by stubbornness alone, if he has to. It’s somehow easy to forget the sheer skill he has at his disposal. It’s humbling now, in a way it had never been before.

Viktor exhales. “Send any message to this phone number. Ignore anything that doesn’t come with the code word from here on out.”

Nikolai grunts again. 

Viktor hangs up without another word, trusting his subordinate to know what to do. Nikolai is the kind of stubbornly reliable that Viktor favors, but his personality sometimes makes him tough to work with. 

While he waits for the sun to rise, Viktor ponders the problems he needs to tackle. The compound is heavily guarded, an update informs him about half an hour later. There’s a grainy image attached, but Viktor can’t make out much, despite the helpful arrows and dots Nikolai has drawn into it. There’s people stationed at every possible exit and the main house, which likely has been fortified, is even more guarded.

Entering the compound will be the first problem, then facing any opposition they encounter, locating Yuri, extracting him from whatever danger surrounds him and then leave the compound without dying on the way.

Their original plan falls through for lack of manpower on their side and an increase of manpower on the enemy’s side.

Viktor presses a finger against his lips. It will be difficult but not impossible. He just has to find the right one amidst all the approaches that flurry through his head. The right point to apply pressure to make the whole thing crack open like an egg.

His phone rings, startling him out of his thoughts, Viktor frowns when he sees the number on the display. He picks up, just as a dark shape moving outside his car catches his vision.

“Boss, there is an unknown person approaching your position,” Nikolai says. Leave it to the man to have an eye on Viktor too. But then again, Viktor left his GPS on for this very reason. 

“I know,” he says, just as a gloved hand knocks against the passenger side window. 

~*~

They huddle close around the small, inconspicuous microphone that Minako had extricated from its hiding spot, endlessly careless not to make any sound that would give away what she was doing. It lies now in the center of the large desk, small and harmless and almost enough to doom them all.

No one says anything, even as Yuuri can taste the unspoken words in the air.

Yuuri had shared his suspicions with the others, shortly after his conversation with Hiroko and had found that each of them had had similar misgivings. The traitor had been blatantly obvious to everyone, but no one but him had figured out the bug.

Minako makes a sharp hand gesture, pointing outside. They all follow, quietly without a sound until it’s only Toshiya alone in his study, puttering around the way he does when he’s working. It’s a bit early, just after sunrise, but Toshiya is an early riser and he’d confessed to use the old study - which is only ever used for  _ business _ \- secretly to tend to his hobby, away from curious eyes and hands.

It’s as good a cover as any, really. 

They assemble in the kitchen, around the large table that takes up most of the space. Hiroko plops down a tray with snacks, before leaving them to it. Yuuri estimates the chance of Ryuichi making a move on them as low, but he’s unwilling to take that risk. Takeshi has taken up watch duty for the time being and Hiroko goes to back him up.

He’d wondered about his parents’ unwillingness to participate. It’s not that they don’t care, Toshiya had told him, but they’d always only been accessories to this lifestyle. They know how to defend themselves adequately, but everything beyond that had never played much of a role in their lives.  _ We’ll be there if you need us,  _ his mother had assured him. It fills him with wistfulness now. Staying in Russia with Viktor’s  _ Bratva, _ it had become so easy to assume that everyone is steeped in this lifestyle. But his parents had only ever been loose affiliates, kept for their usefulness as resort owners. They’d never been called on to do the dirty work. Never had to sell their soul the way Yuuri had.

“What’s Viktor’s ETA?” Minako asks, tearing him from his thoughts.

He checks his phone, even though he knows the answer. Viktor had texted him before he’d left Miyazaki. It had been a short text,  _ sent G to hospital w M. On my way to H now. _ That had been only around twenty minutes ago. It was long dark and it worries Yuuri that Viktor is out there alone, but he clamps down on his fears. “Hard to say,” he says. He doesn’t know which route Viktor will take, what kind of car he drives, if he even is driving a car and not something else.

“Tell him to contact you once he’s arrived,” Minako says and Yuuri nods. They’re all deferring to Minako without much of a protest, she’s the oldest with the most experience. Truthfully, Yuuri is glad it’s not him who’s in charge. As much as he wants to rush headlong in to rescue Yuri, he also knows that his strengths lie elsewhere. And right now, even those are hampered by his physical state.

“We need to gather intel first anyway.” She grimaces for only a split second before her expression smoothes out again. “That’s something we should have focused on from the beginning. There’s no point in rushing into something we don’t know.” She taps a finger against the table surface in thought. 

“It’s odd,” Yuuko says quietly, more to Yuuri than to the rest of the group. “The Snake has always been such a legend. I thought with him here, it would be…” she shrugs, “...easy.”

“Well, that was dumb,” Mari says flatly.

Yuuko shoots her a glare, muttering “as if you were any better,” under her breath.

Minako ignores them both.

Minami, for his part, seems to be almost vibrating out of his skin with excitement. Yuuko had sat him down earlier, trying to gauge how much he understands the position he had maneuvered himself into. Even if he kept away from their scheming, he still had quite effectively cut ties with the Izumi clan. And there is little tolerance for traitors. There is a good chance he might have to face up with people he knows since his early childhood, least of which is his father. But Minami had not faltered, on the contrary, he’d assured Yuuko with almost angry conviction that he knew exactly what he’d gotten himself into.

Afterwards, he had told Yuuri that he had never liked the yakuza, never liked the path he had been expected to follow. He’d shown a glimpse then, of the man he would become one day not too far away. The steel glimmering under the surface, the determination. Yuuri had wondered then, if MInami had been waiting for an opportunity like this. The shadow in his eyes whenever he talked about his father, meant it was more than likely.

“All right,” Minako says. “We’re a bit short staffed, so we’ll have to improvise. Disguises are a must, we can’t have Ryuichi smell what’s up. Yuuri, you figure out a schedule for guard duty for the house with your parents. I want someone watching the feeds at all time. I doubt someone’ll come knocking, but you can’t be too careful.

“The rest is on recon duty. We’re gonna need disguises and good ones.” She sighs through her nose. “It’d be easier with a good hacker at hand.”

“Isn’t it always?” Mari muses.

“What about Phichit Chulanont?” Yuuri asks. They weren’t exactly friends. Friends were detrimental to Phichit’s business and his policy of strict neutrality, but he’d made it more than obvious that he liked Yuuri on the few occasions they’d worked together. 

Minako nods slowly. “Might be worth a shot. Although I don’t know what he can do from a distance.”

“Can we be sure he’s not already helping Ryuichi?” Yuuko interjects.

“Phichit doesn’t do double crossings. If he’s already dealing with my brother, he would tell me and reject my request,” Yuuri says. “It would be bad for business if he didn’t.”

“Uh-huh,” Minako says. “Not sure it’s worth the risk.”

“He might be worth it, but I am not sure if we should bring in too many outsiders,” Mari says with a pointed look at Minami. “More loose ends to tie up.”

Yuuri gives her a warning look, but Minami doesn’t seem to be bothered much by it.

Minako runs a hand through her hair, “what do you think, Yuuri? You know him best.”

Yuuri considers. Phichit had never come off as anything but amiable, but that just seemed to be his personality. He’d always come through for Yuuri too, but there had been payment on the table so it wasn’t exactly surprising. Beyond that…

“We should go for it,” he says. “If Ryuichi had gone and hired Phichit, we would already know about it.” He implicates the house at large with a hand gesture. “We’d be wire tapped or something.”

“All right,” Minako says. “Then do that. We’ll figure something out about payment. Just make sure he can actually help before hiring him.”

Yuuri nods his acquiescence.

“Now, reconnaissance. I’m afraid we still have to do it the old fashioned way. I’m going to assume that Viktor-I-can’t-ever-do-anything-halfway-Nikiforov was going to storm the castle, but I’d bet that Ryuichi has stocked up on personnel. Which means, first of all we need to figure out how many there are. Minami, what about your secret tunnel? Chance of that still being open?”

Minami shrugs. “Good, I guess. No one knew about it, as far as I know. Although, they should have figured out we left through some secret exit.” He frowns slightly, “and my father knows I liked to play at the old teahouse.”

“We shouldn’t risk it,” Mari says. “It’s too susceptible for a trap.”

“And not one we can spring safely,” Yuuri adds. “The tunnel is very narrow.”

“I could sneak in?” Minami offers.

“Absolutely not,” Yuuko says. “Worst case they shoot you on sight, best case they take you prisoner and torture information out of you.”

“Torture doesn’t work,” Minako and Yuuri say at the same time.

Yuuko shrugs. “That won’t stop them. If nothing else, you can still make an example out of it.”

“Are there any other secret tunnels you know of? Or even have an idea might exist?” Minako asks.

Minami shakes his head. “I never found another one. But I guess if there was any in the main house, it got blocked during the renovation.”

“Or converted into the boss’s private getaway,” Mari adds. 

“We’re not getting anywhere speculating,” Minako says. “Let’s set up a rotation for now. We’ll watch the estate and see if we can figure out an opportunity. Once we have a plan, we can figure out how to mislead Ryuichi.” She looks at Yuuri. “I know it’s not ideal and I hate to make you wait like that. But if we can’t guarantee success, we’re better off not doing anything.”

It’s hard, but Yuuri nods anyway.

“Good. Go get some rest now. You’re still recovering and we’ll need you soon enough.

~*~

The thing about his life’s work is, Viktor thinks, that there is invariably a point when there are no surprises left. Or so he’d thought. He’d been proven wrong, of course. As long as there are expectations at play, there will be the unexpected.

But none of that includes Otabek Altin - renowned mercenary from Kazakhstan - to knock on his stolen car’s window in the early morning hours on an abandoned parking lot in Hasetsu, Japan. There are too many coincidences, too many improbabilities for Viktor not to have his hand on his gun when he cautiously opens the window for only a tiny gap. It’s fickle protection, the glass not made to withstand bullets, but Altin hasn’t yet opened fire, has in fact announced his presence when he could have just ambushed Viktor any moment.

If Altin wanted him dead, he might not be dead by now - they’ve never been pitted against each other, but both are considered the best in their respective fields - he’d have at least noticed the effort.

Altin glares at him through the narrow gap he’d allowed, but Viktor thinks it might be his standard expression. “What can I do for you, Mr. Altin?” Viktor asks, casually and flippantly as though this here were normal and not at all alarming.

“We need to talk,” Altin says, voice rough and a little unpolished. His English is not as smooth as Viktor’s, less used presumably.

There’s a number of blithe replies Viktor could give, springing to mind easily and naturally, but he feels the weariness of the day encroach on his bones and as much as he’s a player, he does not want to play games now. “I can’t trust you,” he says and means  _ give me a reason to _ .

Altin, to his credit, only nods. He fumbles for something in his pocket, chest no less, black gloved fingers clumsy in retrieving what seems to be an old, well-worn photograph. He slips it through the gap and Viktor waits until it has sailed all the way down to the passenger seat, before he retrieves it.

It’s a polaroid, crinkled in places and there is a long line straight through it, as though it had been folded at some point.  _ Ah _ , Viktor thinks and almost smiles.  _ So this is personal _ . Aloud, he says, “he never told us about you.”

On the picture is a much younger Yuri, recognizable mostly by his eyes and the death glare in them and a boy that looks a lot like Otabek. They’re sitting next to each other, close enough that their legs are pressed together and while Yuri is glaring at the camera, Otabek is looking at him with unmistakable fondness.

Viktor presses the button that unlocks the passenger door and closes the rest of the window. Altin climbs in nimbly, dropping into the passenger seat with a heaviness that suggests body armor and hidden weapons. He’s wearing what seems to be black fatigues, but their bulk belies their purpose. Altin is dressed for war. He holds out his hand wordlessly and Viktor drops the picture into it.

Viktor carefully takes note of the almost gentle way Altin’s fingers curl around the photograph, how he only glances at it fleetingly but it’s enough to put softness in his eyes. Viktor wants to ask,  _ how did you meet?  _ and  _ what is he to you now?, _ but there are more important things at stake. So he swallows his curiosity regarding the relationship between Otabek Altin and Yuri Plisetsky for later.

“You wanted to talk,” he points out instead.

Altin cuts right to the chase, “I know what happened to Yuri,” he says flatly and almost, Viktor notes, a little accusingly. “I want to rescue him.”

The statement is loaded with all the history between Altin and Yuri that Viktor doesn't know of. He hadn’t even known until this moment that there is any history to speak of. “Why?” he asks, because it’s the simplest question for now. Because a photograph from a childhood spent together goes only so far to assure peace.

Altin just stares at him from under heavy brows. It’s intimidating or it would be if Viktor were anyone else. As it is, he merely stares back, unblinking and patient. 

Altin averts his eyes first. His hand clenches into a fist and then slowly, almost painfully uncurls until he has it pressed flat against the upholstery. “Because he’s my friend.”

Viktor nods. It’s good enough for now. Betrayal looks different. “All right. You have a plan?”

Altin’s left eyebrow twitches, as though it was about to rise but thwarted at the last moment. “I was thinking of tagging along with yours. But I have contingency plans, in case…” he shrugs. 

Viktor’s smile is tight lipped and only a vehicle to transmit he understands the implication. “Anyone knows you’re here?”

Altin shakes his head. “I ferried in from Okinawa and traveled the rest by car.”

Viktor whistles lowly through his teeth. Long way in, but effective. “How did you know what happened?”

Altin shrugs again. Viktor’s grin this time feels natural. Of course. Altin wouldn't be as good as he is, if he gave up his sources.

“We haven’t got a complete plan yet,” Viktor says, “we had one coming in, but circumstances changed, as they do.” It’s hard to say if Otabek can guess at the meaning behind his words, but he doesn’t really care if he does. “Right now, we’re gathering intel. We have reason to believe Izumi Ryuichi is keeping Yuri alive. For now. But we shouldn’t overestimate our window of opportunity.”

“What changed with the original plan?” Altin asks. It’s a harmless enough question, and one he expected, but Viktor still wishes it hadn’t come up. He doesn’t want to talk about it. “The enemy could overhear part of our operation planning,” he says as diplomatically as possible. “We got ambushed on the way in. Any plans we had made prior, had to be scratched.”

Altin nods. “You took care of the leak?”

Viktor’s smirk is more feral grimace than smile. “Not yet. We’re feeding false information at the moment. Mostly about how we believe there to be a traitor in our ranks. There is a chance that infighting will provoke Ryuichi to make a move. I doubt it, but it would make things significantly easier.”

“Who are you working with?”

Viktor raises an eyebrow. Altin shrugs, dismissing his own inquiry.

Just then, Viktor’s phone vibrates against his leg, alerting him to an update from Nikolai. Perfectly on time. It takes a moment to download the attached files, a few pictures and a text file with Nikolai’s notes. Viktor reads through the notes first and then checks out the images. He hums, pleased.

“How do you feel about a bit of spelunking?” 

A slow grin breaks out on Altin’s face. “That depends, is there any treasure to find?”

~*~

There had been, in fact, no treasure to find. Still, Viktor considers they’re expedition a full success. So did Otabek - Otabek after he’d pointedly told Viktor not to call him Altin - even though his excitement was significantly more subdued.

And right on time, just as they were returning from the abandoned sewer tunnel Nikolai had discovered, his phone starts vibrating. It’s a call from Yuuri.

Right on time too. Dawn is breaking and it’s high time Viktor gets some rest, preferably in the arms of his beloved.

“Yuuri,” he greets enthusiastically yet quietly. Nikolai had monitored the area and guided them past any enemy presence as best as possible, but since he only sees a slightly delayed real-time image of the bird's eye view at night no less, it had been a bit more harrowing than he would have liked. How could mice be so utterly adorable while rats were the absolute worst?

“Viktor,” Yuuri says, “what are you doing?”

“Oh you know,” he winks at Otabek who steadfastly ignores him in favor of scanning the surrounding area for movement. They’d left the sewers close enough to the estate to be slightly risky, but they unanimously agreed not to spend any more time in the damp, smelly confines than absolutely necessary. “Just a bit of exploration.”

There is a pause, longer than Yuuri could usually stand the silence. “Is that Otabek Altin with you?”

Viktor winces. He should have figured that whoever Yuuri had assigned to watch the compound knows their salt. They had been careful, but their effort had been mostly concentrated on spying eyes from the estate not on eyes spying  _ on _ the estate. And more than that, he should have told Yuuri.

“I was going to tell you, I promise. I just wanted it to be a surprise.”

“Viktor,” and here Yuuri sounds annoyed, “I don’t mind that you didn’t tell me. I trust you. I’m just worried… never mind. If you think you can trust Altin, then I can trust him too. But how did you get him to come here?”

“Oh,” Viktor is surprised and then a bit annoyed that he’s surprised in the first place. Yuuri trusts him. Of course Yuuri trusts him. He’s smiling like an idiot, but Otabek doesn’t seem to care, or even notice for that matter. “I’ll tell you in a bit. We’re headed your way.”

“Is that smart? Never mind. Of course it’s smart. Just be careful, okay? I expect you have a plan?”

“Of course I do,” Viktor declares cheerfully. Or at least the beginnings of a plan.”Who’s watching the compound right now?”

“Minako-sensei and Yuuko Nishigori.”

Viktor whistles and promptly receives a warning glare from Otabek. He gestures an apology. “Minako Okukawa?” He asks into his phone. “ _ The _ Minako Okukawa?”

“Yes?” Yuuri sounds slightly stumped.

Viktor shakes his head fondly. He loves Yuuri to death, but sometimes he wonders how he always fails to understand the enormity of his pull. All the people flocking to him so naturally. But that's probably the appeal in the first place. “I should have known,” he says amusedly. “You were trained by the best, after all.”

Yuuri makes the sort of noise he always makes when Viktor has said something particularly baffling but he won’t bother commenting on it further.

“We have some news too,” Yuuri says. “So you best hurry.”

“As you wish.”

~*~

He’s barely slept more than a few hours, but Yuuri finds himself with an excess of nervous energy he can’t dispel, regardless of the incessant pacing he performs. Of course, the reason for his energy is also the only way to ease the tension, so until Viktor has arrived safely, he’ll have to deal.

And then he’s here, Otabek Altin in tow, but Yuuri has only eyes for one thing. He doesn’t remember moving but then he’s in Viktor’s arms and Yuuri finally feels like himself again. Viktor smells familiar and  _ safe _ , the way not even his family home ever did. 

“Yuuri,” Viktor breathes into his hair and Yuuri holds tighter, because he can and because he never wants to let Viktor go again. It’s not that simple of course, and the spell is broken by Mari pointedly clearing her throat.

“Who the fuck is that?” She asks. It’s a testimony to her trust in Yuuri and by expanse Viktor that she points at Otabek Altin with her unlit cigarette and not a gun.

And that’s just the beginning of it all.

Half an hour later, the entire lot of them is sitting in the family’s sitting room, Yuuri’s parents keeping an eye out. Everyone has tea and Viktor has just finished the tale of his adventures.

Yurri had already gone through all the stages of anger - a total of one, being bottomless rage - at the mention of the car crash, but he finds himself in a quite agreeable mood to put a bullet into Ryuichi’s brain. On principle alone.  _ Later _ , seems to be the promise in how Viktor gently squeezes his hand. Later, later. So many things to wait for later. 

“I called Phichit,” Yuuri says to distract himself. “Chulanont,” he adds at Viktor’s questioning glance. Otabek - and hadn’t  _ that _ been a surprise? - only nods his head as though he’d known this was coming.

“The information broker? Wow, Yuuri.” Viktor beams at him, the way he sometimes does as if Yuuri’s achievement is somehow more than just calling an old acquaintance.

He fiddles with the hem of his shirt, looking down so he doesn’t have to look at anyone. He’d always considered Phichit as somewhat of an amiable acquaintance. Someone he’d crossed paths with on a few occasions, as pleasant and friendly as it was. He’d never thought it more than that. He hadn’t expected the veritable barrage of excited (at Yuuri calling) and offended (on his behalf) chatter that Phichit had unleashed in greeting. As it turned out, Phichit not only considered him a dear friend -  _ how could you even think otherwise, I’m hurt Yuuri _ \- he’d also started gathering any bit of information there was the moment he’d heard what went down at the Izumi compound.  _ Someone always talks _ , he’d said,  _ it’s only a matter of time. _

It had been quite the shock to find he had that kind of support. He’d never considered himself worthwhile of the affection. He was a tool, or had been, and any favor Phichit had ever done him, he’d always assumed were because of his family.

“Ryuichi has allied himself with Linh, the head of one of the largest Korean crime syndicates.”

At that Viktor makes a sort of strangled sound. Yuuri throws him a questioning glance. 

“Ryuichi told me,” Viktor says, sounding slightly annoyed. “He said he’d prefer- nevermind. The point is, he told me and I didn’t really put stock into it at the time. I was somewhat distracted by the gun pointed at my head.”

It’s a good thing Viktor already walked out of that one alive, Yuuri doesn’t like to contemplate the scenario that could have unfolded instead.

“But what does that mean for us?” Mari asks, tapping her finger impatiently against the table’s edge. “In specific terms I mean, other than that Ryuichi doesn’t like Russia anymore.”

“It means Ryuichi has gained access to the land smuggling routes through China and SIberia,” Minako glances at Viktor for a moment, as though to say  _ sorry _ . 

Viktor merely shrugs. Yuuri had learned much about the inner workings of the  _ Bratva _ during his time in Russia. Viktor had built an Empire, but a crime syndicate is not meant to hold large territories of land. It’s uncontrollable. Even if on paper it all belongs to the Nikiforov clan.

“I had dealings with Linh’s father a long time ago,” Minako continues. “That was before you,” she nods at Viktor, “and before Izumi begun his isolationist strategy.” She smiles mirthlessly, “they’re not happy that North Korea blocks the direct access to the continent so they have a vicious grip on the water routes right around the Korean peninsula. They don’t like outsiders, which means they want something out of this deal if they’re willing to ally with Ryuichi.”

“They want Russia,” Yuuri says. 

Next to him, Viktor spits out the mouthful of tea he’d just taken. “Say what?”

Yuuri squeezes Viktor’s hand. “That’s what Phichit said. Since my brother wants to take you out, it’ll create a power vacuum in Russia and Linh wants to take over.”

Mari groans. “They’re gonna send men here, aren’t they? That’s why nothing’s happened so far. They know we’re sitting ducks so they just wait until reinforcements arrive before they smoke us out.”

“Pretty much,” Viktor says cheerfully.

Otabek, who’s so far listened quietly frowns, “what is the guarantee that Yuri is still alive then?”

“We haven’t received his head in the mail yet,” Minako says darkly.

Otabek scowls at her.

“I’m pretty sure he’s still alive,” Minami chirps in. He’d been on lookout until recently, but despite how tired he must be, he looks very much alert. Even though his chipper demeanor falters a little when Otabek directs his scowl at him. “I just mean,” he says quietly, “when I was watching. There were people coming and going out of the old storage building. Like frequently.It’s not used usually except when they….” He looks down at his hands, fidgeting.

“... torture people?” Mari says. Minami flinches but he nods.

Otabek’s expression sets into one of determination. “Then what are we waiting for?”

Viktor cocks his head in that way that almost always spells trouble. Usually for everyone else. “I do have a plan,” he says, “you won't like it.”

~*~

“I missed you,” Yuuri breathes into Viktor’s neck later. It’s horribly inadequate and doesn’t even come close to express just how much he’d missed Viktor. There had been so much going on and it was easy to focus on other things, but there hadn’t been a minute where Viktor’s absence hadn’t felt like a weight on his shoulders.

“I know,” Viktor soothes, but holds him tighter all the same. “I’m here now.”

Yuuri thinks of the plan and his part in it. Viktor lets out a quiet oomph, but doesn’t complain further when Yuuri holds him even tighter, even though it must be painful.

“I wish I could do more,” he says, even knowing that there isn’t really a point. His right hand is still recovering and all the other nicks and bruises will be too much of a hindrance.

“You are doing enough. You’re doing more than anyone should ask of you,” Viktor says and only then does Yuuri realize Viktor holds him just as tightly. It’s not quite enough to hide the way he’s shaking. “Viktor?”

“I was scared,” he confesses quietly, “for you. I don’t know what I would do…” he trails off. “I don’t know if I could bear it,” he whispers, breath hot against Yuuri’s skin. Viktor trails kisses up his neck, along his jaw and then to the corner of his mouth. “You’re everything,” he murmurs. “Please never leave again.”

Yuuri digs his fingers into Viktor’s shoulder blades. He tilts his head until they’re kissing full on, hungry and just a little bit desperate.

It’s odd in a way, to do this in his old room, where the traces of his childhood still linger. But somehow it feels right too, to pull Viktor down with him on his old bed, as small as cramped as it is. His body still aches, but Viktor is careful, almost worshipful in the way he kisses his way down Yuuri’s skin.

And in return, Yuuri carves his love into Viktor’s skin, with the tips of his fingers, the trailing blaze of his tongue. Because they’ve both passed the point of no return a long time ago. And neither of them has ever looked back. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while, sorry for the delay. There is just one other chapter coming. I don't know when it'll be ready though because I have my yearly progress report aka TAC aka I fucking hate everything coming up and I am getting a new student this week so basically I am fucking busy and shit. But we're almost there, yay.

Yuuri is greeted with an entire arsenal of guns and even a few knives, when he enters his brother’s home through the front door. They’d seen him coming obviously - he hadn’t done much to disguise his approach.

He’s nervous, scared even, but Yuuri shows nothing of his emotions when he steps right into the circle of armed men. If they were to kill him, there’d be little he could do about it. There is no point in showing fear.

The atmosphere is tense, but no one speaks to break it. Outside, the sun has just started its journey below the horizon, casting everything in that faint reddish light of approaching dusk.

Yuuri had felt the eyes on him as he approached on foot, both friendly and unfriendly. He’d been stalled  at the gate as predicted, but when he’d handed over his weapons without a fuss and asked for an audience with his brother he’d been let in. 

Now, a gang of heavily armed man escorts him into his brother’s study, where just day before he’d stood and refused to kill his lover. It seems like it had happened ages ago, in another lifetime.

“Yuuri, you disappoint me,” Ryuichi says without preamble. He’s sitting in the very same chair as before, a stack of paperwork in front of him, displaying a careful study of indifference.

There is a clock sitting on the desk, Yuuri can hear it ticking. Like a staccato, unfailingly sticking to the same tempo, no matter how much he wishes it to speed up or slow down.

Yuuri dips his head in the barest of acknowledgment. The faintly amused expression slips from his brother’s face like an ill-fitting mask. Ryuichi’s eyes are cold and calculating, chilly in their study of Yuuri. In this moment, it’s easy to forget that he’s surrounded by guns and violence, that one wrong move would mean he’ll be riddled with bullets. The true predator in this room is Ryuichi himself.

“I am here to offer a trade,” Yuuri says.

The cold doesn’t dissipate from Ryuichi’s face. He doesn’t respond.

“My life for Yuri Plisetsky’s,” Yuuri says evenly. Exchange one Yuri with another, there is a certain poetry in that.

Ryuichi regards him for a moment, before he throws his head back in a sudden, surprising gesture and laughs out loudly. Yuuri clenches his jaw to keep his hands relaxed. Ryuichi’s laughter is short and harsh, when it ceases, he signals to one of his men. “Tie him up and take a finger, while you’re at it.” He says it casually, almost offhandedly, as if he hadn’t just trampled all over Yuuri’s offer.

_ Tick tock,  _ the clock goes unceasingly.

Yuuri shakes off the man’s grip and leans forward, hands planted on the edge of the desk. “Ryuichi-” is as far as he manages before the cold metal of a gun barrel is pressed against his temple.

“You have nothing of value to offer,” Ryuichi says. “Be grateful, I do not demand your life. You are still my brother,” at this an expression of contempt crosses his face, “so I will show mercy. But you should expect punishment.” His eyes flick to Yuuri’s hand, “this is just a start.”

Another man approaches, carrying a pair of metal handcuffs. The gun still bites into his temple and Yuuri doesn’t dare moving. “Viktor,” he says and barely keeps from shouting, “I’ll give you Viktor.”

Ryuichi tilts his head curiously, but doesn’t stop his man from locking Yuuri’s hands behind his back.  “Now, why would I bargain for something I can get by myself?”

~*~

Viktor’s hands are steady as he fixes the flimsy wires into place. Jury-rigging explosives is not necessarily his strength, but they are pressed for time so he and Otabek share in the work. Yuuri’s talking to his brother right now, drawing his attention away from what’s right under his feet.

Otabek finishes first with his, and then moves on to the next spot marked on their printed out map. The sewer system has been completely overhauled at the time the yakuza took over reign in Hasetsu, leaving a network of old, unused tunnels. The map Nikolai had uncovered was incomplete and left out many of the cave-ins caused by time and decay, but during their earlier exploration, Viktor had already staked out the safest routes and spots to set up the explosives. All they needed was time and a distraction.

Viktor fits the last wire into place and closes the plastic casing. There’s no timer or anything, they’ll have to set off the explosion manually. Which also means that whoever’s responsible for the detonation, will have to sit tight in the sewers, as the tons of concrete between the tunnels and the surface would block any signal. A task that had fallen to Minami of all people. He’d glowed as he accepted the responsibility. It still left a bitter taste in Viktor’s mouth. But despite the risks, it’s still the safest place for Minami to be and he’s the least likely to be shot at.

“All done,” Otabek says as he approaches. He looks intimidating in his all black merc gear, tight leather and combat armor, lending him the aura of someone who knows their way around all the weapons he’s carrying.

Viktor nods. He’s dressed similarly, all black, but less bulky as all he has for protection is a bullet proof vest. He hands the remote detonator - a throwaway phone Mari had bought from a convenience store - to Otabek, who sets it to his charges. Quietly, they make their way back to the entrance, where Minami awaits them with barely suppressed excitement. Viktor ruffles his hair, before handing over the remote. Minami will have to wait outside the entrance, so he’ll be able to receive the signal to blow and then move far enough inside to set off the charges. He’ll have a small margin of time to get to safety, but after demonstrating his speed in a full-on sprint through Yu-topia’s garden, Viktor’s convinced he can do it.

“Good luck, Mr Nikiforov,” he says with shining eyes. He waves tentatively at Otabek who accepts the gesture with a serious nod of his head. 

Viktor pulls his phone from his pants, once they’re outside and in service range. “We’re set,” he says once the person at the other hand has picked up.

“Good,” Minako answers. “I expect a show of force in less than ten minutes.” Viktor can hear the smirk in her voice. “We put on a good show.”

“I’ll see you on the other side,” Viktor says and hangs up. He pulls up his messenger and types a message back to the number Mila had used just this morning to inform him of Georgi’s status.  _ He’s stable now, but still in intensive care. He’ll make it. _

Viktor types in his reply.

_ I’ll bring Yurio to his release party. _

He pockets the phone and looks up at Otabek. There, he can see the same grim determination he feels in his own chest. “Let’s go,” he says.

~*~

“Can you?” Yuuri asks, feigning bravado he does not quite feel. The man about to drag him away has relented, waiting for Ryuichi’s dismissal no doubt. The gun’s also gone - for now. His heartbeat is irregular and yet Yuuri invests everything he has in the appearance of calm. There are so many ways this could go wrong and he has extensively thought about each and every one of them. 

Ryuichi leans back in his chair, regarding him.

There’s a trick to this; Yuuri knows. He’s tried poker only a few times before, but the art of bluffing has long transcended card games. It’s just that Yuuri has never been that good at it.

But he is here now, right in the middle of Ryuichi’s stronghold, bound and defenseless and he’s yet to show any sign of worry.

“He’s in Hasetsu,” Ryuichi says in reply and leaves it at that. It’s the bare bones of acknowledgment, but the fact that he did bother answering gives Yuuri hope.

“Has been for the last few days,” Yuuri says casually. “I’d say you knew where he was too. And yet, here we are.” He instantly regrets his last words. They’re standoffish, open-ended where he should have striven to make a point. 

Ryuichi smirks. “It’s come together quite nicely, don’t you think?” Ryuichi says with an almost pleasant smile. Yuuri can only stare in mute shock. Could he have predicted…? But no, that’s impossible.   
“There is something you have yet to learn, Yuuri.” Ryuichi says with a generous tone to his voice. “I can’t fault you for your naivety, it has been by design after all. But you need to understand, nothing goes on in this town, without me knowing. I am well aware of your little… confrontation, or shall I call it a lover’s spat?”

Yuuri flinches, a moment too slow to catch the motion.

Ryuichi’s eyes narrow. “Really, Yuuri. Playing whore to a foreigner is one thing. Playing the whore and being unaware is not only disgraceful but also pathetic.”

Yuuri has to clench his hands into tight fists to keep his anger at bay. They’d faked an argument, just before he went to his brother. But having Ryuichi now so easily dismiss his feelings hurts unexpectedly.

Ryuichi’s lips curl slightly, but this time there is nothing pleasant about it. “You shouldn’t be surprised,” he says, “it’s the reason you are still walking. I can find reason to forgive a misstep, especially if you came back willingly. It is commendable that you offer me revenge, but punishment will not be foregone. You had your chance and you missed it. Viktor Nikiforov will die by my hand and my hand alone.”

Yuuri presses his lips together to keep the scathign response at bay. He’d rather die than let Ryuichi have a go at Viktor. But that isn’t his purpose here. Instead, he sweeps his eyes over Ryuichi’s desk one last time, finding the ticking clock with his eyes. The men surrounding him start dragging him away, forcefully this time and with no hope of shaking them off. 

_ Tick tock. _

The force of an explosion rips apart the silence.

~*~

Viktor is sprinting at full tilt through the smoky haze of fire and exploded debris. Jury-rigging explosives is definitely not his strength and it shows in the absolute devastation the blast has caused. He can only hope Minami got out okay, but he doesn’t have the time to worry right now.

A body materializes in the smoke in front of him, a man stumbling and pressing his sleeve over his mouth and nose. His watering eyes meet Viktor’s for an instant, just long enough to widen in surprise, before Viktor slams his fist into his stomach. The man folds over, hacking, leaving Viktor the space to elbow him into his temple. 

Viktor takes a moment to get his bearing. The left side of the main house is a smoking ruin, walls blown wide and the roof a tattered mess spread out over the entire compound. Water is gushing out from the tunnels of the newer sewer that the blast has torn open, filling into the gaping crater that has swallowed half of the garden. 

Viktor spots more than one lifeless body, torn apart and bloody and in between men stumble lost and confused. If they miscalculated and Yuri was inside the house....

Viktor shakes off the thoughts and takes up his run again. He follows Yuuri’s signal on his phone, from the small tracker they hid on his body. The tracker’s intact, which at least means Yuuri wasn’t caught in the blast. Or the tracker was taken off him, but there is really no point in worrying about that now.

Viktor’s approach is slowed as he reaches the smoldering outskirts of the ruined house. Flames are already skipping over the wooden parts and the smell of smoke is acrid in his nose. It won’t be long until firefighters arrive. They need to be gone by then.

He starts climbing onto the wooden floorboards reaching up from the ground like arms reaching up in despair. He hopes Otabek has an easier approach to wherever they keep Yuri. Viktor presses his sleeve against his mouth to protect his lungs. He should have brought a breathing mask or something, but he hadn’t expected the blast to be this devastating. Inside the house he can hear the sound of men shouting, interspersed with the sloshing of water. Efforts at putting out fires undoubtedly.

Finally, he climbs free of the debris and reaches the house proper. Flames are licking up walls and curtains and the smoke is so thick it stings in Viktor’s eyes. Two men come running down the corridor, at the sight of him they shout, but don’t slow. Both pull their guns, but Viktor, who’d seen them coming, is faster. He shoots the first in the face point blank and dives under the other’s outstretched arm. The bullet disappears into the smoky night air behind him. Viktor grasps the arm, before the man can bring it to aim down, and violently twists it. The man grunts and drops the gun, but brings his second arm around. Viktor’s feet slip on the sooty floorboards and he gets clipped rather hard in the temple. Bright pain explodes behind his eyes and he almost loses his grip on the man’s gun hand. He pulls on it reflexively and drives his knee up into the man’s stomach as he comes toppling. He fails to untangle himself in time and the heavy man brings him down as he falls. Viktor’s elbow hits the ground, pain shooting up the entire length of his arm.

Still, it takes him only moments to struggle back to his feet. He has no time to lose, he needs to get to Yuuri.

~*~

Even though he knew it was coming, the force of the blast still takes Yuuri by surprise. He instinctively seeks cover behind the wall of men surrounding him, bracing himself against the blast’s shockwave, hunching his shoulders to protect his head as good as he can with his hands tied behind his back. He hears little over the ringing in his ears and it’s hard to make out details when the air is filled with rushing air and debris, but he makes out dark shapes around him, falling and folding like paper dolls in a storm. Something heavy hits him with almost brutal force in the side, a piece of wall or something, and Yuuri loses what little balance he had left.

He fights to his knees afterwards, dizzy and with ringing ears, driven by the knowledge that his window of opportunity is small and he needs to  _ move _ .

There’s pain all over his body. He thinks he might be bleeding, but Yuuri pushes it all to the back of his mind.

It’s a struggle to get to his feet and he has to lean against the wall for support. The air is thick with particles, biting into his nose along with the stinging smell of burned wood.

The wall in Ryuichi’s office that held the door has collapsed into a mess of smoking timber and broken bodies from the men who had crowded there only moments before. Behind, the floor is tilting downward where it is not thrown open as if a giant force had pushed the floorboards outwards. The air is thick with smoke, but even so Yuuri can see the giant gaping hole that has swallowed a large part of the mansion and an even larger part of the garden. If the explosion had been only a little bit to the side, or if he hadn’t managed to stall as long as he did…

A groan catches his attention and Yuuri pushes off the wall. His brother had sought shelter behind his desk, but the blast’s force had pushed the heavy furniture forward, trapping Ryuichi against the wall.From what Yuuri can tell, it hadn’t done too much damage and actually shielded him from the worst of the debris and force. Unlike Yuuri, who’s bleeding from several cuts caused by flying debris.

The next part won’t be easy and he has so precious little time left to pull it off. Once again utilizing his ballet skills, Yuuri twists until he has his hands in front of him. He works the lockpick he’d hidden in his clothes out and makes short work of the lock. It was a bit of a gamble, but he’d guessed rightly that Ryuichi wouldn't make the same mistake twice and trust zip ties. The desk is moving slowly but steadily away from the wall, a sign that his brother is working himself free.

Yuuri dives forward as soon as he’s worked open the first cuff, not wasting time on the second. He grabs a gun from where it had fallen out of someone’s grip. He only has time for a cursory check before Ryuichi emerges from his spot, gun in hand. He’s dusty and blood is welling from a cut on his temple, but his face is grim and unsurprised when he comes face to face with the gun Yuuri is pointing at his head.

Ryuichi’s gun is still pointed downwards, the advantage is on Yuuri’s side. But Yuuri feels the aftereffects of the blast, plus he’s still not entirely recovered from his earlier misadventure. There is a faint buzz in his ears, like someone has stuffed them with cotton until most sounds are muffled. He also gets the sense that there is a distinct lag between what his brain decides and his body’s reaction. 

He should shoot his brother and be done with it. That’s the plan anyway, but despite his conviction, despite all reasons why this is the best solution, Yuuri hesitates. It shouldn’t mean anything, but Ryuichi is still his brother. Something behind him crashes with a splitting crack, distracting them both. But Ryuichi has the advantage of facing that way. By the time Yuuri’s brain has caught up with his instinct of checking behind him, freezing him half turn with his eyes on his brother, Ryuichi has already lifted his weapon.

Yuuri thinks he hears his name, but the sudden pounding of his blood in his ears overwhelms most sounds. Ryuichi smiles, not at him, but something behind him and for the fracture of a moment Yuuri wonders  _ why _ , before the crack of a gunshot rips through the fuzz in his head.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo, final chapter, finally. Took a while but it's finally here. Finally.  
> Thanks to everyone who gave this fic a chance, thanks for your support and your patience. I can't say yet if there will be another entry in this series. Life's been rather busy for me recently, so writing has ended up on the backburner.

There are a few moments of Viktor’s life that are engrained into his memory in perfect detail. The moment when he’d killed his first man, the moment he had met Yuuri’s eyes on top of the piano, the moment he had first laid eyes on the Boar’s message carved into the skin of a dead man. 

These are the moments that shaped his life, that led him down the path he’s on now. There are other memories too, small snapshots of his life that remain untouched by time.

But the one that stands out the most, the one that fills him with a chilling sense of hollow loss and  _ fear _ , is the memory of Ryuichi firing his gun at Yuuri. He’d known he’d be too later that there was no way he could have made it in time. He can still see the shock of impact as the bullet had hit Yuuri’s chest. The memory comes with a phantom pain in his own chest, right where the heart lies, because surely he could not be expected to survive if his love had died?

He could have lost everything in that moment. There lies danger in that thought. No one should ever have this much power over him. But he has handed Yuuri this power, and no part of him could regret that.

“You have that look again,” Yuuri says, warm glimmer in his eyes. He’s naked which is the look that suits him best. Currently, he’s lying curled around Viktor in their shared bed in Sankt Petersburg, or home as they now both call it.

Viktor runs a hand through Yuuri’s hair. It’s grown longer, tickling the shell of Yuuri’s ear. It suits him. Everything suits Yuuri, of course. Especially that smile he’s currently wearing.

“What look?” Viktor asks.

“The one you get when you think something particularly cheesy,” Yuuri says. He shifts, pressing their bodies even closer together to reach up and rest the tip of his index finger on Viktor’s cheek. 

“I just thought how you are the best thing to ever happen to me,” Viktor says truthfully.

“See,” Yuuri says but he’s blushing and smiling, “cheesy.”

“Can you blame me?” Viktor asks and there is something vulnerable now. It’s there because he lets it be there and Yuuri knows it too.

Truly, it was a close call. The bulletproof vest Yuuri had worn was a spare from Otabek, intended for Yuri actually, one Viktor had insisted Yuuri wear instead. He’d thought he’d have to fight Otabek on it. But Otabek had acquiesced, simply on the terms that Yuuri was risking his life for Yuri’s sake. That was payment enough. And on the implicit understanding that Otabek would protect Yuri from all harm. That single-minded conviction…

Yuuri smiles and it’s like stars bursting and galaxies colliding. It feels so utterly profound and yet so very fragile too. He understands it all too well. Even knowing he wouldn’t make it, he’d still thrown himself forward, unthinking, only drawn by the single-minded thought to protect Yuuri. He hadn’t been fast enough to prevent the first shot, but he’d been fast enough to prevent the second. He’d shoved Yuuri out of the way and wrestled the gun from Ryuichi’s hand, pointing it at his head. He’d have killed him too, but Yuuri had stayed his hand.

“Blame you?” Yuuri asks lightly. “How could I ever?” It’s light, teasing, but the ease falls off a moment later. “I would never blame you,” he says, and it’s there too, the conviction Viktor knows so intimately from his own veins. “Not for anything.”

“Don’t-” Viktor swallows, “don’t give me a blank card.” 

“You wouldn’t abuse it,” Yuuri says.

“I wouldn’t,” Viktor agrees. “Or I would try not to.”

“That’s all I can ask for.”

“But sometimes that’s not enough. Yuuri, you have the right to be angry at me, if I am wrong. You have the right to your opinion, your values and if I step out of line you have the right to call me out on it.” Viktor shifts onto his elbows to look down at Yuuri. Beautiful Yuuri, sleep tousled and languid. “I am human,” he says, “I can do wrong.”

Yuuri gazes up at him for a moment. “That doesn’t mean I will blame you for your faults.”

“You should,” Viktor insists, but Yuuri shakes his head.

“No, Viktor. You are right in this, you are fallible and you are human, but so am I. I will not blame you for either. And neither should you. If I step out of line, tell me. And I will do the same. But don’t think there lies blame in being human.

Viktor huffs a laugh. He should have known, he supposes. Yuuri always gets him better than he himself does. “How come you always know what I need?”

“Because it’s the same thing I need,” Yuuri says solemnly. “And you have a tendency to throw yourself headfirst into whatever catches your fancy. With little regard to your own well being.” Yuuri raises a hand to brush Viktor’s hair back behind his ear. He lets it linger there, knuckles brushing against Viktor’s cheekbones.”You would have thrown yourself in front of the bullet, if you’d had the chance. Even though I was wearing a vest, you would have still given your life.” Yuuri’s hand is trembling, Viktor can feel it against his skin. He reaches up to catch the hand and gently lifts it to his mouth for a kiss.

“I would have done it gladly, “ he says and means it.

“That’s not the point,” Yuuri says. “My life is not worth more than yours. You shouldn’t throw it away so carelessly.”

“It’s selfish of you to ask me to stand by and watch you die.”

“Yes,” Yuuri agrees, “it is. And I am asking anyway.”

Viktor squeezes Yuuri’s hand. He can feel the strength in it when Yuuri returns his grasp. “Is this you calling me out?” he asks.

Yuuri pulls back his hand and uses it to flick a finger against Viktor’s nose. “”I’m telling you that you should treat your life with more care. I am very fond of it. And when the time comes…”   
He doesn’t finish, but Viktor knows what he is going to say anyway.

“Then we’ll go together.”

~*~

_ “You did what you had to,” Yuuko says when she hugs him goodbye. It’s a firm hug, almost motherly.  _

_ ”I know,” he says. It doesn’t feel like he knows though. Ryuichi is dead. By his hand no less. It’s what he had to do, is what he tells himself too.  _

_ Eventually, he breaks the embrace, but clings on to Yuuko’s arms a moment longer. It’s impossible to tell just yet, but he can already see what a great mother she’ll make. He hadn’t known when he’d asked her for help, and he doesn’t know if he’d had the luxury to have it make a difference. He doesn’t know and never will. But either way, Yuuko jumped to his defense without  hesitation, unborn life or not. _

_ He remembers what he’d told Viktor on the phone, only days before.  _ It’s not worth it _. What an arrogant thing to say for someone who’s accumulated as many debts as he has. Debts he’ll never be able to repay. _

_ At least Georgi is fine, still recovering from his surgery and stuck in Japan for at least another two weeks, before he can travel. But at least that is not a life to tally on to his sins. _

_ The same cannot be said for Ryuichi. _

_ Yuuko bumps her forehead against his, something she hadn’t done since they were children. She doesn’t say anything and Yuuri’s glad for it. _

_ Takeshi clears his throat after a moment and the two of them break apart. Yuuri shakes Takeshi’s hand and then gets a hearty clap on his shoulder for his troubles. Despite his gruff demeanor, Takeshis’s smile is genuine. _

_ And then there is only Minako left. To his parents and sister, he’d already said goodbye inside. There is not much to say here, Minako, of all the people he calls family, perhaps understands him the best. “Take care,” she says anyway. It’s a threat more than a plea, and Yuuri knows she’ll mean it when she says he better take care or she’ll come and kick his ass. It’s a sort of comfort, to know that even half a continent away, his family watches out for him. _

_ And then it’s time already, Viktor is waiting by the car with Yuri and Otabek, giving him the time to say goodbye to his family.  _

_ Viktor squeezes his hand briefly in passing and then they’re off to Miyazaki, to pick up Mila and say hi to Georgi, and then. _

Home _ , Yuuri thinks. And even if that means Russia and no longer Japan. He’s still Yuuri. Even with his brother’s blood on his hands - he’s still Katsuki Yuuri. _

_ ~*~ _

It’s a surprise of sorts, when Yuri decides to stay in St Petersburg. “This is my home too,” he says with a scowl and that is that.

Remarkably, the time in captivity had little effect on Yuri as a whole, or at least it seems like that to Viktor’s eye. He waits anyway, keeping an eye out for the signs, the tells that might give away something has changed. 

Maybe Yuri’s decision to stay is a sign too. 

“What?” Yuri snaps over breakfast, legs propped up in Otabek’s lap, glowering as he is wont to do any time of the day. 

“I am just pleased, is all,” Viktor says smoothly. He’s smiling, of course he is. How could he not with Yuuri there beside him, Yuri, abrasive as always but intent to stay, even if that includes one mercenary Otabek Altin - really, Viktor would be stupid to look that gift horse in the mouth. There’s Mila too and Georgi, new additions to the breakfast table and welcome ones at that.

Yuri grumbles something unintelligible under his breath, but the scowl on his face melts instantly the moment his eyes fall on Otabek. Viktor still isn’t too clear on the details, how they’d met and how they’d managed to keep it a secret from everyone else so well. Yuri flat out ignores all of Viktor’s attempts at coaxing the story out of him and Otabek leaves it at a noncommittal shrug. But it’s not important, not really. They’re here and that’s all that matters.

That’s how it goes these days. They all have breakfast together, like a family. There’s bickering, laughter and that fat feeling of joy in Viktor’s belly that never quite leaves. He’d never thought to get here, never thought he’d have this, not just with Yuuri, but his friends, his family.

Viktor’s smiling again, prompting Yuri to roll his eyes in disgust, but then he turns around and kisses Otabek soundly on the lips, which causes Mila to fake gag into her tea and Georgi to sigh like the forlorn lover he fashions himself to be.

Viktor catches Yuuri’s eyes and finds the same joy there, that he feels himself.

It’s all right, he thinks. They’re going to be all right.

“So,” Mila says, drawn and with accompanying wriggling of her brows. “When are you getting married?”

It’s telling that she doesn’t address it to one specific couple - or person.

Georgi sighs even deeper, Otabek studies the tabletop with suspicious interest, Yuri sputters and Yuuri. Yuuri blushes such a furious red it fills Viktor with utter glee to see it.

~*~

Later that day when they’re alone, Yuuri takes a heart. He’d planned this, or rather thought about this extensively. And then chickened out at the last minute. He wants this no doubt, but until this point he’d always doubted - foolish as that was - that it was the same for Viktor. But then, when Mila had made her joke, he’d seen the expression on Viktor’s face. He’d smiled of course, as he always does these day, but there was a tenderness to his eyes. Such a loving and adoring expression and it was all levelled on Yuuri.

That doesn't mean he isn't nervous though.

He’s led Viktor outside and into the sprawling garden that surrounds the Nikiforov mansion. The others are out on various businesses, and unlikely to disturb them anytime soon. Even Yuri is gone for now, spirited away on an ‘important errand’ that Yuuri had Otabek make up to get him away. Yuri is loathe to leave them alone, especially after Hasetstu, but the house is safe and the two of them together are near invincible.

Yuuri takes a deep breath to fortify himself.

“Viktor,” he starts but then the words fail him. How is he supposed to wrap everything that’s in his heart into words? How is he supposed to encompass the vastness of his emotions with mere words?

And there is that small voice, the one he can’t silence no matter what. The voice that asks, what if it’s not enough?

“What is it Yuuri?”, Viktor asks. But even confused, there is still that tender expression in Viktor’s eyes. He can’t be imagining  _ that _ .

“Give me your hand,” Yuuri says and he is proud of how steady his voice sounds.

Viktor doesn’t hesitate when he stretches out his hand for Yuuri to take. No hesitation, no doubt. Just like that. It’s flooring and breathtaking all at once. He’s clumsier than he’d like to be, but he manages to slip the ring on Viktor’s finger all the same. He watches, closely, as Viktor’s eyes widen first in surprise and then seem to melt as that impossible tenderness takes over.

“Yuuri,” Viktor breathes and his eyes are sparkling now. He holds up his hand to examine the ring now adorning his finger.It’s a simple one, white gold with only a tiny inlaid stone, a deep saturated red, so dark it almost looks brown.

Viktor admires it a moment longer and then, faster than Yuuri can process, Viktor’s snatches up his hand and slips something on his finger. Yuuri only gets a moment to stare dumbly at the ring that wasn’t there the moment before. They’re similar, except Yuuri’s stone is a pale blue. Then Viktor pulls him into a kiss, tender and yet deep. 

“That means yes, by the way,” Viktor murmurs when he pulls away moments later. “It’s not fair if you go first and then don’t even ask the question,” Viktor says, almost petulantly.

It’s true, Yuuri should have asked. He should have also gotten a second ring. But. “I wasn’t sure,” he simply says, “what ring would fit me best. So I left the choice to you.” And the choice too, if Yuuri was worthy of Viktor’s affection.

Viktor takes a moment to work through Yuuri’s words. Then he huffs, once, twice. The next moment, he’s laughing, tears twinkling in the corners of his eyes. “Oh, Yuuri,” he gasps. “You are wonderful.”

_ No, _ Yuuri thinks with a warm heart,  _ you are. _

**Author's Note:**

> Pakhan - essentially the Russian equivalent of the godfather  
> Bratva - brotherhood, term describing the Russian mafia  
> Rosuke - derogatory term for Russian in Japanese  
> Chankoro - derogative term for Chinese in Japanese  
> Nihonjin - lit. Japan man  
> Boyevik - warrior, the Bratva’s soldiers if you will  
> Sovietnik - councilor, the Pakhan’s right hand man  
> lyubov' moya - my love


End file.
